The Lancaster sketch book

THE LIBRARY

OF

THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA

LOS ANGELES

Ex Libris

Katharine F. Richmond

and
Henry C. Fall

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* «. -.-

fi Oi^-f\Xi^-^y(J-' o"' f K*-*-

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s.

PERSIS F. CHASE.

"There lies a village in * peaceful vale
With sloping hills ami waving woods around."

BRATTLEBORO, VT. :

FRANK E. HOUSH & Co., PUBLISHERS.

1887.

COPYRIGHT, 1887, BY PERSIS F. CHASE.

F
4-H

M«>-t of the following1 articles appeared in the
columns of the Lancaster (.jazctfc, with the excep-
tion of some of the sketches which were published
in the Portland Transcript.

It i> hoped they will prove acceptable in the
more pretentious form of a book, to the residents
of the town; and perhaps those whose former home
was in this locality, but who have wandered far
awav from this pleasant valley among the 'moun-
tains, will recall the scenes of- other days in reading
these sketches; and the summer visitor who has
found health and pleasure among our hills, may find
in the drives I have attempted to describe, a mem-
ory of happy hours.

PERSIS Y. CHASE.

LAXCASTKR, N. H., 1887.

1066630

•w THE DAYS OF AULD LANG SYNE " . . . . 9

F. MMO\S STOCKWELL 14

THE DJUVE TO STOCKWELL FARM 20

MAJOR JONAS WILDER 23

THE DRIVE TO JEFFERSON 27

THE BUILDING OF THE FIRST CHURCH ... 31

THK DRIVE TO NORTHUMBERLAND 37

ZIBA LINES 40

THE DRIVE TO SOUTH LANCASTER 43

RICHARD EVERETT 48

THE DRIVE TO STEBBIN'S HILI 52

PHEBE SPAULDING 55

THE DRIVE AROUND MT. PROSPECT .... 64

OUR " BUNKER HILL" 70

THE DRIVE TO EGYPT . 72

A TRUE STORY 76

TICK SOLILOQUY OF THE OLD ACADEMY 82

8 Contents.

THE DRIVE AROUND THE GORE 87

THE FARRAR HOUSE MYSTERY 91

THE DRIVE TO THE TOP OF MT. PROSPECT. . 97

GREAT GRANDMA'S CARPET 100

THE DRIVE OVER PAGE HILL 106

THE OLD CEMETERY . . 1 1 1

£a nega

"THE DAYS OF AULD LANG SYNE."

IN 1825, the village of Lancaster contained 34
houses, most of them cheaply built, and unpainted.
There were two taverns. The stage tavern at the
north end of the village, kept by William Cargill,
standing where Jacob Benton's house now does.
This building was moved a little farther north, and
is now occupied as a tenement house. The other
\\ us the American House kept by Samuel White.
This building was partly destroyed by fire, and has
lately been taken down.

There was only one church in the village, a large,
unfinished building, standing on sand hill, about
where the meeting-house common is now. The
hill at that time was very steep. A number of
wooden steps led up to the meeting-house. I do
not think our village forefathers were very wise in
choosing such an elevated position, for on a sum-
mer's dav the view from the door must have been

io The Lancaster Sketch Book.

so beautiful that I am sure some were tempted
" to be doorkeepers in the house of the Lord" in-
stead of going inside. Parson Willard preached
in the meeting-house for many years at a salary .of
$150 a year.

This building was erected in 1791, when there
were only 26 voters in town. In 1846 the old
meeting-house was moved down the hill, to the
spot where it now stands, and has since been known
as the town hall.

There was a Methodist society who held services
in the court house, which stood where Kimball
Fletcher's house now does. The room was
warmed by a potash kettle inverted on a brick
arch.

Some prominent lawyers attended court here
about the time I am writing of ,— Daniel Webster,
Levi Woodbury, Ichabod Bartlett, Joseph Bell,
among the number.

Gen. John Wilson was clerk of the Common
Pleas Court, of which Arthur Livermore was chief
justice. Adino N. Brackett was clerk of the Supe-
rior Court, William M. Richardson, chief justice.
Major John W. Weeks was sheriff.

The jail stood where the present one does. It
was built of heavy hewed timbers of elm. It

Tin- /.nitcustcr
•
\\ us used for 53 years, being burnt in 1858.

A little red gun bouse stood where the 1'nitarian
church now does, where a brass cannon was kept,
used by the artillery company. The postoffice was
kept in the south-west room in the Fletcher house.
Samuel A. Pearson, who then occupied the house,
was postmaster. The mail south went out twice a
week, carried in a two-horse wagon, and was three
davs in reaching Boston, stopping at Haverhill the
first, and Concord the second night. The mail was
carried to Colebrook once a week, to Bethel once a
week on the way to Portland, b\- a man on horse-
back.

The physicians were Benjamin Hunking, Elipha-
let Lyman and Jacob Stickney, who went their
rounds on horseback, with the saddlebag containing
their medicine swung across the horse's back.

There were four stores. One kept by Perkins,
Eastman <S: Co., a building that was situated where
Irving Drew's house is now. Another kept by
Benjamin Boardman, in what is now known as the
Rix house. The other two were at the south end
of the village, and kept by Samuel White and
Reuben Stephenson.

The stock of goods kept wJis very small, the
sale of liquors making an important part of the

12 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

trade. There was no law to prevent or regulate
the selling of liquor. New England rum was con-
sidered essential during haying and harvesting. Ci-
der was made in large quantities and used freely in
all farmer's families. Ready-made clothing was
unknown, as well as the modern machine-made hos-
iery for underwear. The wool and flax w7hich ev-
ery farmer raised, was spun and woven into cloth
by the busy housewife and her daughters. A tail-
oress went from house to house making this cloth into
garments for the men and boys.

Women, for ordinary wear, used home-made cloth,
spun and woven by themselves. Flannel for winter
and linen fabrics for summer. Dresses were made
very plain, six to seven yards of cloth, three-fourths
wide, was considered a large pattern.

Every fall the shoemaker went with his bench
and tools to each house, when a corner of the
kitchen was given up to him until the family were
all shod. The shoemakers were Samuel Humux,
an old Englishman from London, Heber Blanchard
andjosiah Smith.

There was no wheelwright or competent painter
in the place. Judge Lovejoy and Richard Eastman
were house carpenters. Ephraim Cross manufact-
ured hats in a small way. Allen Smith was saddler

Tin- Lancaster Sketch l*»<>k. \ \

;iiul harness maker. Warren Porter had a black-
smith shop opposite his house which is now occupied
by his son.

There was a gristmill and saw mill at the Wesson
place, the miller, Squire Darby. Another grist mill
stood where the present one does, Mr. Greenleaf,
.in old, white-headed revolutionary veteran, being
miller.

There was a clothing mill and carding works
where the Freeman mill is now.

The wages of laboring men was fifty cents a
<lav and board, house carpenters and most mechan-
ics commanded one dollar a day and board. The
tailoress and dressmaker considered twenty-five cents
a dav ample remuneration for their work. Seventy-
five cents a week was all the most competent house-
maid received.

Only a few remain to tell us of the old days.
Nearly all have gone " the way of all the world."

Fifty years have brought great changes, not only
to this village, but to all New England. The rail-
road, telegraph and telephone, and innumerable in-
ventions to facilitate labor, have been invented with-
in that time.

Progression is seen on every hand — the old mak-
ing way for the new — which is as it should be.

14 77ie Lancaster Sketch Book.

" Let the great world spin forever down the ring-

ing grooves of change."

EMMONS STOCKWELL.

Emmona Stockwell, the subject of this sketch,
was born in Petersham, Mass. As he was bereft of
his parents at an early age, he was bound out to
service during his minority. In order to encourage
enlistments, a regulation was made that indentured
apprentices should be entitled to their freedom if
they would enlist in the public service. Stockwell,
although very young, took advantage of this pro-
vision which gave him his liberty. He was in one
of the expeditions which went up for the invasion
of Canada during the French war. On returning
from this expedition he, with some others, came
down the Connecticut River, and for the first time
beheld this magnificent valley. A few years later,
remembering the great natural attractions, he de-
cided to return and make his home here.

His glowing account of the Connecticut valley
interested others, and in the spring of 1764, he
started with Captain David Page, David Page, Jr.,

77/c Lancaster Sketch Book. 15

ami a few others from IVtcrsham, to seek their
fortunes in Northern New Hampshire. The whole
country was then a dense wilderness; not a high-
wa\ had been constructed in or to our town.

The earlv settlers found their way bv marked
trees through the woods. They drove before them
some twenty head of cattle, with bags of salt, pro-
visions and farming tools fastened to their horns.
Thev erected their first camp on what is now known
;i^ Holton meadow, and went immediately at work
to clear some land. In a short time they had twelve
acres planted with corn. It grew so rapidly that by
the 25th of August it was twelve feet high, and in
full milk, but this fair prospect of a good crop of
corn was entirely destroyed by a hard frost that
came on the 26th; but perseverance was the motto
of our forefathers. They managed to keep their
cattle through the winter by cutting the grass on
the open land on Beaver Brook, and were ready to
renew the struggles of another year.

The nearest mill was a No. 4, in the town of
Charlestown; but the settlers did not depend upon
food transported from there for their daily use.
Emmons Stockwell made a huge mortar which held
two bushels. Into this, corn, beans, and rye
were put, and pounded with a great wooden

1 6 'J^hc Lancaster Sketch Book.

pestle. Cooked potatoes and vegetables were mixed
with the contents of the mortar and the whole w as-
baked together. This composition was called
" thump," and was considered a delicious dish, so I
am told.

The first white woman that came to Lancaster
was Ruth Page. Her father, Governor Page, so
called by way of distinction merely, never resided in
Lancaster, but was a sort of director of the set-
tlement, making frequent journeys to visit the new
colony, and by his counsel rendered them great aid
in the management of their affairs. Captain David
Page and son, who were among the first who came
here, were his brother and nephew.

In August, 1764, Governor Page started from
Petersham on horseback, accompanied by Ruth,
who was going to Lancaster to cook the food and
do the work for the little colony, then more than
forty miles from their nearest neighbors.

On the 25th of August, the night of the great
frost, Governor Page and his daughter slept in the
woods in Orford. They arrived in Lancaster the
last of the month to find the little colony somewhat
disheartened by the great calamity that had befallen
them, but were no doubt much cheered to know a
woman had come to make their homes more com-
fortable.

The Lancaster SAf/c/i Book. 17

Ruth must ha\o IKK! a rather nice time, notwith-
standing the rough life. There were no other
i,rirls to share the attention of the young men, and
when Emmons began to pay attention to
her, as he soon did, she had no one to be jealous
of.

The next year after Ruth's arrival in Lancaster,
she was married to Emmons Stockwell, and began
housekeeping on the old Stockwell place. A part
of the old house is now standing. She was, at the
time of her marriage, eighteen years old, and he
was twenty-three. Mrs. Stockwell was a woman
of great determination of character. She had won-
derful general capacity; she could do anything that
was necessary, and did everything well. It is said
that in the days of the Revolution she was the sal-
vation of the colony. The hardships and dangers
which surrounded them, the capture of the settlers
by the Indians, and gloomy prospects of the country,
somewhat weakened the resolutions of the settlers.
They met at Mr. Stockwell's house to discuss the
abandonment of the town. Mrs. Stockwell declared
that she would not go away ; that she knew no
such thing as failure. Others were influenced by
the decision of the Stockwells, and the settlement
was saved.

1 8 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

Mr. Stockwell had a vigorous mind, a great deal
of good common sense, and possessed prodigous
strength. He could neither read nor write, until
taught by his wife. For many years there was no
school or school house. Mrs. Stockwell, who was
a very good scholar for those early days, taught the
children of the settlement in her own house. The
next year after Mrs. Stockwell's marriage, Edward
Bucknam, one of the young settlers, married a sis-
ter of Mrs. Stockwell, who had probably come to
make her sister a visit. They settled at the mouth
of Beaver Brook, a stream that runs through Mar-
tin meadows. A hunter who caught a large num-
ber of beavers, which abounded in this stream, gave
his name to the meadows. The Bucknams had six
children, from whom have descended the Moores,
Mclntires, Howes and Bucknams. Their oldest
daughter, Eunice, was the first child born in the
settlement. It was a long time before any traveled
public way was constructed. Canoes were the only
carriages, and they were made by themselves from
the trunks of great trees. The women could row
these canoes up and down the river with great skill ;
and could also handle the rifle and fishing pole with
expertness. As the rivers and streams were full
of fish, and the forest of moose and other game, the

'/'lie /.tr/ffiisfft- SAt-tc/t Book. 19

tables of our aiuvstm^ must have been supplied with
something besides " thump."

Mr. and Mrs. Stockwell lived together more than
liftv-tive \ ears, and had fifteen children, seven sons
and eight daughters, all of whom grew to maturity.
Before Mrs. Stock well's death she could number
one hundred and ninety living descendants. She
died at the age of eighty-two; her husband at sev-
enty-eight. David Stockwell, their oldest child,
was the first son of Lancaster.

Edward Bucknam, whom I have mentioned be-
fore, was a very useful man to the new colony. He
was a good surveyor, and could " draw teeth " and
" let blood," and perform the marriage service. He
laid out a large portion of the town and many of
the highways.

The first bridge erected in town was the old
" Stockwell bridge," across Israel's River. The
right to cross it first was put up at auction, and bid
off by Emmons Stockwell, for five gallons of brandy
which cost him forty-two shillings a gallon.

The prosperity and success of our town is, no
doubt, owing in a great measure to the fact that its
foundations were laid by such men as Stockwell and
Bucknam, and honor and gratitude should be given
to the memory of Ruth Stockwell, who came

2o 77ie Lancaster Sketch Book.

through the wilderness to aid the new settlers, and
who, by perseverance and courage, overcame all
obstacles and lived to see the " wilderness blossom
like the rose."

THE DRIVE TO STOCKWELL FARM.

In going to the Stockwell farm and through
the pine woods to the Northumberland road, we
drive to the north end of the village, and take the
road to the right, which is bordered on either side
with tidy, home-like looking houses, the yards in
front bright with flowers, and far away to the right
and left are charming mountain views. After cross-
ing the rail-road track, we turn to the left, which
takes us directly to the Stockwell farm, the high-
way ending there. We pass on the right the
Abbott place, and what was formerly known as the
Barton G. Towne farm. These farms were origi-
nally settled by the Pages.

Adjoining this is the Stockwell farm, which ex-
tends to the bank of the Connecticut river. The
first land cleared in Lancaster was twelve acres of
this farm near the river, by Emmons Stockwell, in

The Liiii fatter Skctfh Hook. 21

April, 176 , and planted \vith corn. The broad in-
tervale that stretches away in undulating swells to
the river, has been known for a hundred and twenty
years as the " Stockwell Farm," and occupied since
the death of Emmons Stockwell, by his descend-
ants.

Driving on, we pass a beautiful grove of elms,
and just below stands the Stockwell farm house.
The low, moss covered ell connected with it is the
tirst frame building erected in Lancaster, and was
the home for many years of Ruth Stockwell, the
fust white woman that came to this town.

To the right of the buildings, which stand upon
a slight elevation, we look down upon a grand and
extensive meadow view. The river at this point
makes a sweeping curve toward Vermont, leaving
an expanse of three hundred acres of green intervale
on the New Hampshire side. A most charming
background for this green valley is first formed by
the Connecticut river and beyond that the hills of
Vermont. Nearlv in front of us, rising in sy met-
rical beauty, are Mt. McClellan and Mt. Rogers,
whose tree crowned sides descend into undulating
farms. Driving down the bank, we go on through
the meadow, passing fields of nodding rye and oats,
to the river, whose banks are gracefullv fringed

22 JYie Lancaster Sketch Book.

with trees. Turning again, we drive up the bank,
passing through some bars on the left, and drive
across a level field. We are now on the old road to
Northumberland, but long since it ceased to be a
highway. On our right we pass the agricultural
fair grounds, beyond is the Pilot range, flecked with
shadows, and still farther on rise the familiar out-
lines of the White Mountains. We soon enter the
woods. Is it not delightful ? Take long breaths
of the fragrant, spicy air, for " our pines are trees of
healing."

Listen to the sighing breath of the trees. Henry
Ward Beecher says, " the first pines must have
grown on the sea shore, and learned their first accents
from the surf and the waves; and all their posterity
have inherited the sound, and borne it inland to the
mountains."

The friendly boughs seem to nod welcome to us.
On either side is a wild tangle of ferns, dog wood
and elder blooms, while our carriage wheels roll
over a carpet of pine needles. All too soon we
emerge into the sunshine, and turning to the
right find ourselves in the highway, homeward
bound.

The road we are now on was formerly the stage
route to Groveton. We drive into the village by

Tin- /.a nfastcr SAf/rA Hook. 23

Summer St., getting a tint view of Mt. Prospect;
tlie road \\ hiding in a xig-xag course up its side, is
distinctly seen from this point. We soon finish our
drive, but the memory of broad meadows, moun-
tain peaks and lovely pine woods, will remain with
us.

Surely the variety and beauty of the drives in
this vicinity cannot be surpassed; whichever way
one goes " they cannot err in this delightful re-
gion."

MAJOR JONAS WILDER.

The first framed dwelling house erected in Lan-
caster was the large, square, flat-roofed building, that
stands at the north end of the village, known as the
" Holton house."

This house was considered at the time it was built
a very elegant residence; the finest in the county.
It was built by Major Jonas Wilder, who was born
in Lyme, Conn., on the 22d of February, 1732.
When quite young he went to Templeton, Mass,
where he resided many years. In the course of
time, reports came to Major Wilder of the rich land

24 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

that had been discovered in the valley of the Con-
necticut in Upper Coos. He determined to go and
explore the region, which he did. On reaching
Lancaster, he was delighted with the natural loveli-
ness of this valley. In imagination he saw the broad
meadows, which at that time were covered with
trees, cleared and planted with corn, the river gleam-
ing like a band of silver through the fresh verdure,
while the encircling chain of mountains, seemed a
fitting frame for so fair a picture.

Major Wilder decided to go no farther, but bought
a mile square of land extending from the " Holton
house " to Israel's river.

He then returned to Templeton, to make arrange-
ments to remove to Lancaster, and take possession of
his new estate.

In Feb., 1780, he started from Templeton with
his wife and ten children, and a train consisting of
two family sleighs, four lumber sleighs and a num-
ber of sleds for stores. He also brought along
carpenters, masons and glaziers, and everything for
building purposes.

I do not know how long they were in reaching
Lancaster, but probably some weeks. A small
house was built for a temporary home, near the
river bank, — remains of this building can still be

77/<- Lancaster Sketch Hook. 25

ii the Ilolton meadow — and some land cleared
and planted with corn. On the I9th of May, 1780,
memorable as the " dark (iay," they commenced
digging the cellar for the great house, hut by elev-
en o'clock it became so dark that the men were
obliged to discontinue the work.

This strange and as yet unexplained phenomenon
of nature, extended throughout New England,
and created great disturbance in the minds of the
people, and caused much commotion among the ani-
mal creation. The fowls went to roost, the birds
suddenly stopped their blithesome singing and dis-
appeared, the cattle returned to their stalls, lowing
pitifully. Candles were lighted in the houses,
and everything bore the aspect of the darkest
night.

Many were convinced that the end of the
world had come, and betook themselves to devo-
tions.

All worldly things have long since come to an
end for those who witnessed the " dark day," but
the sun has shone on with undiminished splendor
through the cycles of the years.

The frame of this house was raised on the 26th
of July, 1780. I have not been able to ascertain
the exact date of the completion of the building.

26 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

As there was no church built until the-year 1794,
religious services were held at this house, also the
town meetings. In 1780, Major Wilder was chos-
en on a committee to select a public burying ground,
he presented the mound known as the "old burying
ground," to the town to be used for that purpose.

The first grist and saw mill in town were
built by Major Wilder. He also assisted in laying
out roads. He cleared a large tract of meadow land,
where he raised five hundred bushels of corn. I
have been told that this land was so rich, that for
years no dressing was necessary, and what
would now be considered of great value was thrown
in the Connecticut.

The county was thickly settled with Indians at
the time Major Wilder came here. He was noted
for his hospitable and humane care for them,
and was rewarded by their faithful friendship.
. He was a valuable accession to the new settlement,
and has left a record of which his descendants may
well be proud.

Of his numerous family, only one great-grand-
child is living in town at the present time.

He died in 1810 of paralysis. A handsome granite
monument recently constructed by a great grand-
son, Mr. C. O. Baker of Portland, Me., marks the
spot in the old cemetery where his ashes repose.

/'//<• Lancaster Sketch Book.

THE DRIVE TO JEFFERSON.

The White Mountain region is especially delight-
ful, affording as it does from almost any point,
charming and picturesque drives.

The situation of Lancaster is particularly favored
in this respect. In any direction you may go,

" Aloft on sky and mountain wall.
Are God's great pictures hung."

Perhaps the drive to Jefferson, going over the
"Jefferson Mills Road," and returning by the
" north road," affords as grand a view of the
White and Franconia ranges as can be had in this
vicinity.

We go up the sand hill and leave the village by
Portland St. On our right is Holton hill, a splen-
did situation for a summer hotel. The road is as-
cending most of the way for the next mile, which
brings us to the top of " LeGro hill." Before we
begin the descent, let us stop and enjoy the
beautiful views. To the right of us, to the left
of us, and in front of us, the horizon is terraced
with mountains. The cultivated uplands in
the foreground, are golden in the afternoon
sunshine. On our left is the Pilot range,

28 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

broken by cones and peaks, while the soft clouds
that fleck the sky, are painting the mountain sides
with shadows of every imaginable form and shape.
Nearly in front, the whole White Mountain range
stands massive and majestic, the pride of New
Hampshire, as it has stood for thousands of years.
The gorges and ravines that channel the sides of the
mountains can be plainly seen. To the right, the
irregular peaks of the Franconia range are distinctly
outlined against the blue sky. Who can behold
this mighty chain of mountains at a fitting hour in
the afternoon, and fail to be impressed with the
view ? The grandeur of it cannot be over esti-
mated.

We go on down the hill, past as good farming
land as there is in town, but the stone walls that
surround some portion of it are a good evidence
that the soil has been redeemed from rocks and
stones, smoothed and enriched by indomitable indus-
try. Driving briskly along, passing some pleasant
and comfortable looking homes, we arrive at the
" Mills," once a lively little business place, but now
reminding one of the " deserted village." We take
the road to the left, cross a rickety bridge and are
on the direct route to " Jefferson Hill," a pleasant
shady road, with some quite steep hills. We soon

The Lancaster Sketch /AW'. >cj

vs a beautiful maple grove. The underbrush has
been removed, and seats arranged beneath the dense
foliage of the trees, affording a delightful place for
picnics and gatherings. By the look of some of
the land we pass, the stories of sheep having their
noses sharpened to get at the grass between the
Atones, can be easily believed.

Presently we come in sight of the village of
" Jefferson Hill," and can distinguish the " Waum-
bek " house quite distinctly. As we are not going
to visit the village, we will take the turn to the left
and are on the North road, and soon come to an en-
tire change of scenery. The road is no longer hilly,
and quite a broad sweep of level land borders it on
either side, the hills that lie beyond are thickly cov-
ered with trees. In the Autumn this is an especial-
ly delightful drive, then these hillsides are one mass
of gorgeous coloring.

A little further on, a stream of water comes rush-
ing down the hillside, through a green pasture,
where a flock of geese are giving lessons to their
young in aquatic sports, but at our approach stretch
their necks and hiss, evidently taking us for ene-
mies. Some humane persons have placed a wooden
trough at the roadside, and into this the water comes
in a sparkling stream, into which our horse is anx-

30 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

ious to plunge his nose. How 'he seems to enjoy it,
drinking so heartily. Then he lifts his head and
takes a look down the road, to see who is com-
ing. Some work horses turned loose in an adjacent
field, affecting gayety in their old age, attract his at-
tention, but we remind him he has other business
to attend to. Another mile brings us to a point
where the road diverges to the right and left. The
one to the right leading to Gore and Groveton,
the left is our way home, so we turn that way.

Bray Hill, on the edge of Whitefield, presently
comes into view, and although not much of an ele-
vation, is so situated that both the White and
Franconia ranges can be seen at good advantage
from the summit.

We are now approaching the part of the town
known as " out east," where some of the most de-
sirable farms in Lancaster are situated. The houses
are comfortable, and some quite handsome, with
neat and tastefully kept yards and commodious
barns, which indicate that prosperity has attended
the efforts of the laborer.

The " great brook " crosses and winds itself
through the green fields on its way to Israel's river.
The sun is just sinking behind the Vermont hills,
tinging with a rosy light the Pilot Range and Per-

/'//<• /.iT//C(is/ft- SAc/i'/i Book. 31

cy Peaks. How beautiful it is! but already the
shadows are creeping down the mountain sides, re-
minding us that we must hasten home, and present-
ly we timl ourselves at our own door, bringing with
u^ pictures of mountains, hills, forest and field, that
will live in our memory forever.

THE BUILDING OF THE FIRST CHURCH
IN LANCASTER.

It was a number of years after the first settlers
had found their way to this pleasant valley, and had,
by such hardships as only the pioneers in a new
country can experience, made for themselves homes
by the fertile banks of the Connecticut, and on the
rugged hill-sides, before they could raise the means
to build a church.

Religious services had been held in private
houses, and after Major Wilder's handsome man-
sion was completed, it answered well for that pur-
pose. In the year 1791, the question of building a
" meeting-house," was considered at the town
meeting. A committee of six was appointed to
buy six acres on the plain above the sand hill, and

32 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

inspect the clearing of the same, " for a meeting-
house plot."

Later, a committee was chosen " to propose a plan
for the meeting-house." After due consideration
the following was recommended: "That the pews
be sold at public auction. That each person give
his note to the committee, who shall be authorized
to receive the pay and appropriate the same. That
each person be subjected to the following method
of payment: — That the whole sum be divided into
four parts, to be paid the four next succeeding years.
That each person pay six shillings and eight pence
on the pound the first year, one half in June, the
other in November, the rest to be divided into three
equal parts, and paid in November of each year.
That four shillings on the pound, be paid in cash,
or salts of lye, and the rest in wheat at four shill-
ings per bushel, or beef at seventeen shillings and
six pence per hundred weight, with this restriction,
that the committee shall receive each man's equal
proportion of timber, boards, clapboards and shin-
gles, if good and merchantable. That each person
who buys a>pew, shall procure sufficient bonds for
payment, and his obligation shall be lodged in the
hands of the chairman of the committee, which
shall be taken up or endorsed by a receipt from the
committee."

/'//<• Lancaster Sketch Book. 33

These conditions were accepted by the people,
and the following men were chosen " to build the
meeting-house:" Col. Jonas Wilder, Capt. John
\\eeks, Lieut. Emmons Stockwell, Lieut. Joseph
Hrackett, Lieut. Dennis Stanley and Capt. David
Page.

It was nearly four years before the church was
finished. From the " old Town Hall building,"
which is the old " meeting-house," one would not
suppose it to have been a very imposing edifice,
but such it is said to have been. Certainly it was
a prominent feature in the landscape, standing on
the brow of the hill, which at that time was very
steep, like some grim sentinel keeping watch of the
little hamlet that clustered in the valley below. It
was built with a steeple at one end, two porches,
and a broad entrance on the side. There was a
gallery, a high pulpit, with a sounding-board sus-
pended above. The pews were square, and the
seats arranged so they could be raised up when the
congregation stood up for prayers, making more
room. When the minister said Amen, the clapping
of the falling seats made a great clatter. A long
flight of steps led up to the entrance for the accom-
dation of those who went on foot, and horse-blocks
were provided for the mounting and dismounting of

34 The Lancaster Sketch Book,

those who came on horse-back.

There was no provision made at all for warming
the church. Some of the women carried foot stoves,
an arrangement of sheet iron in a wooden frame in
which coals could be put.

In 1794, the question of settling a minister was
considered at the town meeting, and a committee of
nine persons was selected to " draw proposals for
the settlement and salary of the Rev. Joseph
Willard."

At the next town meeting the following report
was made: " To give Rev. Joseph Willard fifty
pounds a year for the next succeeding three years.
This was to increase as the inventory of the town
increased, till it reached eighty pounds. To be paid
on the first day of March of each year. One third
part paid in cash, the other two thirds in produce.
On condition that we can get help from the neigh-
boring towns as we now expect."

It was ascertained that the town of Northumber-
land would pay ten pounds toward the salary of
Mr. Willard, on condition that he would preach a
proportion of the time at that place. At the same
town meeting that the arrangement in regard to
hiring the minister was made, it was voted " to raise
twenty-six dollars to be laid out in smoothing the

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 35

meeting-house plot." It was voted to pay three
shillings ami six pence per day, "if they found their
board and tools."

On the iSth of September, 1794, Rev. Joseph
Willard was installed as pastor over a church of
twenty-four persons, and continued to occupy this
position for twenty-eight years.

Those who remember this gentleman, speak of
him in the highest terms of respect. His religious
teachings were full of charity and love, and left an
abiding influence for good.

I am told that he was very stately and dignified,
with something of a military air which he had ac-
quired in the army, and a thorough gentleman of
the old school. He continued during his life to ad-
here to the fashion of knee-breeches, shoes with sil-
ver buckles, and carried a cane.

" He was a man to all the country dear

And passing rich with fifty pounds a year.

Remote from towns he ran his godly race.

Nor e're had changed, nor wished to change his place;

But in his duty prompt at every call,

He watched and wept, he praved and felt for all.

He tried each art, reproved each dull delav.

Allured to brighter worlds, and led the wav."

The following are the names of the ministers that
have been settled by the Congregational Society

36 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

since its commencement, as far as I have been able
to ascertain:

Joseph Willard, Andrew Govan,

Luke Spofford, Buxton,

Clark Perry, David Perry,

Stephen A. Barnard, Isaac Weston,

E. B. Chamberlain, Prescott Fay,

Henry V. Emmons, C. E. Harrington,

C. E. Stunner, S. A. Burnaby.
Jason R. Wheelock,

The names of the deacons were:

Jonas Baker, Samuel Phelps,

Joseph Wilder, Reuben W. Freeman,

Elias Chapman, Porter Freeman,

William Farrar, Edward C. Spaulding,

Seth Adams, Azro Burton.
William Freeman,

In 1839, tne cnurch that is now occupied by the
Congregational Society was built. The good and
true men who founded this church among the
wilds of New Hampshire, have all passed on to
" another country," but the church and society have
continued to increase in power and numbers, as the
years have passed, and many

" Seek by the path which their fore-fathers trod

Through the land of their sojourn — the kingdom of God."

Tin Lancaster Sketch Book. 37

THE DRIVE TO NORTHUMBERLAND,
RETURNING ON THE VERMONT SIDE OF THE CON-
NECTICUT RIYER.

Some pleasant afternoon in June, when grass and
trees are wearing their first freshness of summer,
what can be more enjoyable than a drive to North-
umberland Falls, returning by way of the Vermont
side of the Connecticut river?

We drive to the North end of Main street, and
take the road to the right. Passing the jail, we
soon see on our left Baker Pond, once a famous
place for pickerel. A little further on, a curve in
the road affords us a charming meadow view.
Some of these acres of broad intervale that roll
away in waves of " living green " to the banks of
the Connecticut, belong to the Stockwell farm. We
go on past the Fair ground and " the old Bellows
place," and soon enter the cool and fragrant pine
woods, where only a glimpse of the blue sky is
ssen above the rustling tree tops. These woods
that seem so delightful on a summer afternoon,
was the place where once a robbery was attempted.
Mr. Hartwell, a gentleman who formerly resided in
Lancaster, owned a very fine horse remarkable for

38 The Lancaster Sketch Book,

speed. One very dark night, he was driving down
to L., when about half through the pine woods, a
man sprang from the road-side, caught the horse by
the bridle, and presenting a pistol, commanded him
to stop. Mr. H. struck the horse a hard blow, he
gave a tremendous jump, threw the man down and
was off like an arrow, far beyond the reach of the
robber, before he had regained his feet.

A very eccentric man by the name of Ziba Lines
once had a home under these pine woods, where he
lived many years a hermit's life. I am informed
his seclusion from the world was caused by a disap-
pointment in love.

As we go on, we notice on our right, masses of
granite rocks, flung up in vast ledges, their sides
mossed over, and from the rifts and clefts, bushes
and dwarfed hemlocks are growing. Now we pass
on our left, acres of level meadow land. In some
places the green turf has been turned over, and we
conclude from the number of thieving crows, flying
near, that corn has been planted there.

In the distance, but seemingly directly in front of
us, are to be seen the twin mountains, known as the
" Percy Peaks," whose cone-like tops are conspicu-
ous from almost every point of view. Now we are
approaching the little village known as The Falls.

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 39

\\\ hear the hum of the mills along the river side,
;nul see great piles of newly sawed lumber, that per-
fumes the air with a piney smell.

Crossing the long covered bridge, we are in
Guildhall, Vt., a small, but pleasantly located vil-
lage. We drive through the principal street, noti-
cing the comfortable and home-like looking houses.
The two churches stand sociably side by side. An-
other mile brings us to a turn in the road, where a
charming view can be had. On our left we can see
a long distance down the river

" Not unknown to classic song,

Which still in varying beauty rolls along."

Not a ripple disturbs the surface of the water, that
with mirror-like exactness reflects the trees, that so
gracefully fringe its banks. On the right, the rolling
hills that further on swell into rugged mountains.
On we go with the river on our left all the way.
In some places the trees are so large along the
bank, that we get only a glimpse of the blue
water. Birds are singing blithely, as they flit from
tree to tree. The red squirrel runs along the fence.
Graceful, feather-like ferns are growing in great
clusters in the more shaded places. Now, we are
coming to the Ames place. Where can a finer
meadow view than this be seen? The river takes a

4-O The Lancaster Sketch Book,

wide circuit toward New Hampshire, leaving a
grand expanse of intervale, dotted thickly with the
graceful meadow elm. Beyond the gleaming of
the river, Pilot Range perfects the artistic finish of
the picture. From this point until the toll bridge is
reached, a fine combination of river and mountain
scenery is presented. Those who think

" 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view,
And robes the mountain in its azure hue,"

will enjoy the drive. Crossing the bridge, we are
in the Granite State again, and as the

" Evening shadows are displayed,
Evening damps begin to fall,"

arrive at our home, delighted with our drive of
twelve miles.

ZIBA LINES.

Doubtless there are many in town who remem-
ber Ziba Lines, who had a small house situated near
the place where the house now occupied by Captain
Beattie is standing.

Mr. Lines came to this town from Charlestown,
N. H. He had been at work for a number of years
for a wealthy man in that place, and brought quite

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 41

a Mini of money here with him. When he first
came to Lancaster he was fond of society, and used
to go to places of amusement, and as he had consid-
erable musical ability, was quite noted for singing
songs.

Probably all would have gone on prosperously
with Ziba, had he not fallen in love, which, alas! was
not reciprocated; the lady would not listen to his
suit, and he was unable to say, " Nay, if she loves
me not, I care not for her," but brooded over
his disappointment until he became a hermit and a
miser.

He bought a number of acres of land, in what is
known as the pine woods, built a house which I
have mentioned, where he lived isolated from every
one. After a few years he became so eccentric that
he was considered almost insane, but perfectly harm-
less and quiet.

At one time he invited a number of people to at-
tend his wedding, requesting the minister to go to
the home of the lady at a certain time, to perform
the marriage ceremony. He then went to his lady
love, whom he found milking, and told her what he
had done. For a reply, she threw the milk, pail
and all, at poor Ziba, and ran away. I don't know
how the milk bath affected him, but probably it had

42 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

a quieting affect, as after that he turned his attention
more to money. He got all he had exchanged into
silver, and kept it in two brown earthen pots, that
held about a gallon a piece, and these he usually kept
buried in the ground.

One Sunday the people in the church were sur-
prised by seeing Mr. Lines walk up the aisle, with
these pots, one under each arm. He deposited them
on the table under the pulpit, and remained standing
near until the service was over. When he was
asked what he had brought the money to church for,
he replied that he " had made an offering of it to the
Lord," and when someone offered to take care of it,
he decided to do so himself. He then carried the
pots of money to Mr. Bellows, who lived in the
house known as "the old Bellows house." A colored
woman was living in the family at that time. She
got an empty trunk, and in this Mr. Lines deposited
his treasures, taking the key away with him. Some
time after, the trunk was opened, and found to con-
tain only stones. No one knew when he had taken
the money away, but it was ascertained that he
went on2 night, carried it away, and buried it some-
where in the pine woods, where it is supposed to re-
main until this day.

Mr. Lines had some trouble with a neighbor about

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 43

a line fence. This man would build a stump fence
that would require two yoke of oxen and two men
all day to place in position.

During the night, Mr. Lines would entirely
remove it with the help of only one small yoke of
steers.

An immense chain, weighing two hundred pounds,
was used by his neighbor in moving the stumps.
One night this chain disappeared, but a track across
a plowed field to the river bank, indicated it had
been drawn across and thrown into the river.
The river was dragged, but the chain was never
found.

A few years ago, Emmons Stockwell plowed
this chain up, when he was breaking up some
land. Mr. Lines had buried it as he did his
money.

As Mr. Lines became old, it was not considered
safe for him to live alone. There was a guardian
appointed for him, and he was removed to Page Hill,
where he died a victim of unrequited love.

THF DRIVE TO SOUTH LANCASTER.

The drive to South Lancaster, returning by way
of the Vermont side of the Connecticut river, affords

44 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

some of the most beautiful meadow views in this vi-
cinity.

" The tasseled maize, full grain or clover,

Far o'er the level meadow grows,
And through it, like a wayward rover,
The noble river gently flows."

We go up Baker hill, and after passing several
cottages, come to the two story white house, situa-
ted on a hill at the left. This house is now occupied
by W. H. Hanson, but was built by Parson Willarcl,
and known for many years as the parsonage. A
little further on, standing on a hill remote from any
building, we notice the little brick powder house,,
formerly owned by the State, and the powder for
the guns that used to be stored in the old arsenal, on
the opposite side of the road, was kept there, but
since the old militia system was abolished, the arse-
nal has been made into a stable, and the powder
house sold to R. P. Kent, Son & Co., who used it
for storing powder. We drive along what used to
be the old stage road to Littleton. Ah! how well
we remember those morning rides, long before day-
light, in the lumbering old stage coach, with Jim
Pool for a driver. Surely it is a good thing that
the world moves, that the mai'ch of improvement
has rendered that twenty mile drive to reach the

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 45

•cars, unnecessary. We pass neat, home-like looking
farm houses. On the right are the broad meadows,
and just beyond the silvery gleaming of the river,
are the cultivated lands, farm houses and hills of
Vermont, making up an ideal landscape view of in-
tervale, river and mountain.

Presently we come to the Brackett hill, and
see on our left, the old brick house cosily situated
at the foot of it, with broad, spreading butternut
trees at one side. \Ve pass the bridge over the
brook, that winds in and out with many a curve,
through the pasture on the left, and a little farther
on, we come to the old flat-roofed house, shaded by
elms, formerly the home of Major John W. Weeks,
one of the first settlers of Lancaster. Major Weeks
won his military title at the battle of Chippewa,
being promoted from Captain to the rank of Ma-
jor for gallant conduct at that time. The road is
smooth and level, we drive briskly along, getting a
glimpse of the " shining river" through the dense
foliage of the trees, pass the little brick school-house,
and soon come to the " White farm." From the pe-
culiar curve the river takes at this point, this farm
has always been called the Catbow.

Soon after the revolutionary war, Major Moses
White, of Rutland, Mass., was rewarded for the

46 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

honor and ability with which he had filled the high
position in the continental army, to which he had
been called, by receiving from the government,
through General Hazen, this tract of land where he
fixed his residence, and passed the remainder of his
life, leaving the farm to his descendants at his death,
by whom it was occupied for many years. On we
go over this pleasant river road, passing farm houses,
ana acres of meadow land on the right, pastures
and cultivated fields on the left, with now and then
patches of woodland, until we come in sight of a
railway station, and a few other buildings at South
Lancaster.

Turning to the right, we cross the railroad track,
and the covered bridge that spans the Connecticut,
and are in Vermont. The views along the home-
ward drive are unsurpassed. From the brick house,
now known as the " Rowell place," formerly owned
by Reuben Benton, to the " Stone farm," a distance
of about one mile, the scenery is more picturesque
than at any other point during the drive. Here,
for a long distance the. Connecticut is seen winding
in graceful curves through the broad intervales.
The varied tints of green displayed in grass, grain
and foliage, all bathed in the golden sunlight of a
summer afternoon, make a picture that must be

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 47

seen to be appreciated. On we go over the pleasant
country road, sometimes through bits of woods,
full of hemlock, pine, and spruce, that perfume the
air with a spicy odor, then out into the sunshine,
where we see the regal golden rod waving its plumy
head among the raspberry and blackberry bushes at
the roadside. In some places the purple aster is
beginning to fringe the way, and the wild clematis^
to trail its graceful vines over the fences. A gold-
en robin is perched on the swaying limb of a tree in
front of us, singing a merry song, and the meadow
lark skims over the green fields rejoicing as he
flies.

Now we are passing the " Clark farm," owned
by Deacon Carlton, and presently the " old Hopkins
place " comes into view, now the property of the
Rhodes Brothers, two fine specimens of Connecti-
cut river farms. A charming back ground for these
broad meadows, is formed by the rich rolls of culti-
vated land, on " Stebbins hill," and other hills that
have no name. Flashes of sunlight turn acres of
woods on Mt. Prospect and Mt. Pleasant into
patches of shining satin. The White mountains,
Pilot Range and Percy Peaks, that now seem al-
most in front of us, are bathed in glorious sunset
hues, of rose gold and purple ; but we are approach-

48 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

ing the old toll bridge, and are reminded that it is
almost supper time, and as the old farmer wisely
remarked, "folks can't live on scenery," we rapidly
finish our delightful drive.

RICHARD C. EVERETT.

In November, 1787, a little party of emigrants
might have been seen slowly wending their way
through the woods toward Upper Coos.

There were only four persons, two men and one
woman, and a little child, which the younger of the
men, who was about eighteen, carried in his arms.
The other man led a horse upon whose back was
fastened a heavy load, and upon his own back was
a pack.

The names of these persons were Mr. and Mrs.
Blake and child, the young man was Richard C.
Everett, who afterward became the first lawyer of
Lancaster. As Richard had but little of his own to
carry, the baby become his burden instead of its
mother's.

On the 1 9th of October of the same year,
Richard had been discharged from service in the
revolutionary war at Yorktown among many others
whose services were no long-er needed.

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 49

Being an orphan and almost without friends, he
had enlisted two years previous, when only sixteen
years of age. During the first year he saw much
hardship and privation. The short allowance of
food, poor clothing and hard work, soon changed
the robust and healthy boy so much, that even his
mother, had she been alive, would hardly have
known him. One dav he was sent to General
Washington's headquarters on some errand. The
youthful appearance and sad condition of the poor
boy attracted the General's sympathy. He enquired
who he was and why he was there. After hearing
his story, he was so kind as to take him into his per-
sonal service, where his duties were much lighter.
After leaving the army he returned to Providence,
his native place, and being entirely dependent upon
his own exertions for a living, was looking febout for
some employment, when a proposition was made
him by Mr. Blake, with whom he was acquainted,
to go with him to Upper Coos, where it was report-
ed that good land was cheap, and emigrants were
wanted.

This Richard decided to do, and the little party
started on their long tramp to seek their fortune in
the wilds of Upper Coos.

Weary and foot-sore, this little band were over-

50 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

joyed when just at night-fall on the twelfth day of
their long march, they saw from a slight eminence
they had reached, the smoke rising from some log
houses in the valley beneath them, and knew
they had at last arrived at Lancaster, their destina-
tion.

They had been directed to go to Major Wilder,
who promised to be a kind of father to the new set-
tlers. He gave them a hospitable welcome, and as
he had been wanting to get some men to draw salt
from Portland, before many days, Mr. Blake and
Richard had agreed to work for him during the
winter.

Before they could commence their labors, howev-
er, a road had to be made through the Notch suffi-
ciently wide for a sled to pass through. The road
at that time being hardly more than a foot path.
This was done by Mr. Blake and Richard, assisted
bv one other man.

During the winter Richard saved all he could of
his earnings, as he had made up his mind he would
have an education. Perhaps Persis, daughter of
Major Wilder, whom he afterward married, in-
spired him to make this decision. In the spring he
went to Hanover, where he managed by hard work
and economy to prepare himself for college, and he

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 51

determined to take a collegiate course, although his
resources were limited to good health and willing
hands. Hut, after all these years of hardship, the
way was unexpectedly opened to him. One day in
looking over a Boston paper, he saw an advertise-
ment wanting information of the heirs of Richard
Everett, formerly of Providence. Richard knew
it must mean his father. lie immediately wrote to
the address given, and in reply was informed that
he must go to Providence and prove that he was
the son of Richard Everett, in which case quite a
sum of money was ready to be paid to him.

This he did, having no difficulty in proving him-
self the rightful heir.

In surveying and laying out the city of Provi-
dence, it had been found that several lots of land be-
longed to Richard Everett. These had been sold
to good advantage; so Richard found himself pos-
sessed of sufficient means to finish his education, and
have something left.

After graduating, he studied law, and in 1793 re-
turned to Lancaster, and began the practice of his
profession. He was married to Versis Wilder,
December 7, 1793, after an engagement of nine
years.

They had seven children, all daughters, none of
whom are now livin<r.

52 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

Judge Everett built the house known as the
" Cross place," where he resided until his death,
which occurred on the 22nd of March, 1815.

He was successful as a lawyer, became judge of
the Court of Common Pleas, and afterwards judge
of the Supreme Court, which office he held for
many years.

THE DRIVE TO STEBBINS HILL.

The view from Stebbins Hill is one of the most
charming in this vicinity.

Driving up Baker Hill, and along the river road
for a mile and a half, we come to a turn on our
left, which we will take.

The road soon begins to be ascending, but
smooth and hard. Presently we come to the
" Emerson place," formerly owned by Captain John
Weeks, who was the first to settle on this hill
land.

Perhaps one reason for choosing this high land,
was owing to the freshets that every spring delayed
the cultivation of the intervales until frequently as
late as June, and perhaps the exceedingly lovely
view from this hill was the attraction.

On the right, a short distance above the " Emer-

T/tc Lancaster Sketch Book. 53

son place," is the old Mclntire farm, settled by John
Mclntirc, who came to this town in 1794, married
for his first wife Sally Stockwell, daughter of Em-
mons Stockwell, one of the first settlers of the town.
Mr. Mclntire was quite a remarkable man. He
could neither read nor write, but invented a method
of computing interest, and " dod sir," was his fav-
orite expression, he always was correct in his cal-
culations. He accumulated quite a large property,
which he divided equally among his sixteen children
before his death.

On we go still up, about a mile above the Mcln-
tire place the road turns to the left. On the right,
just at the crown, but somewhat back, is the "Steb-
bins place," formerly owned by Edward Spaulding,
who was the son of Phineas and Phebe Spaulding,
who settled in the town of Northumberland, in the
year 1769. Mrs. Spaulding was a descendant of
the famous Mrs. Dustin and was a woman of great
courage and determination. Edward Spaulding was
brought in his mother's arms from Haverhill to
Northumberland, through the wilderness, alone,
with only spotted trees for a guide.

The road is getting prettv steep, but a few more
rods brings to just the right point for the view. The
scene is beautiful and picturesque, and one that will
live in the memory forever.

54 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

The windings of the Connecticut can be traced
many miles, through the broad, green, beautiful
meadows, waving with grass, and grain and
patches of glistening corn, reminding us that though
among the beauties of nature, the hand of man has
added something to its charms.

From east to west a mighty chain of mountains
swells gracefully along the horizon. The most dis-
tant seem to touch the heavens and lose themselves
amid the clouds.

Below us, cosily situated in the green valley, the
houses of the village of L. gleam white in the af-
ternoon sunshine.

A little more than a hundred years have passed
along the course of time, since how changed was the
scene !

The same river, hills and mountains were here,
and will still stand unchanged, unchanging through
ages yet to come. But yonder village, and the
comfortable farm houses, surrounded by acres of
cultivated land, where were they?

Lancaster was a wilderness, and Indian hunters
strode along its hills and valleys. The wild deer
lapped the water of the river that flowed sparkling
through the meadows beneath us.

Where the village now stands, the smoke from a

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 55

few log cabins of the first settlers curled above the
trees of the forest.

Who can reflect upon the changes that have al-
ready been, without turning the mind toward the
future? Slowly we drive along, reluctant to leave
this beautiful prospect, but

'• The western waves of ebbing dav,"

remind us that it is time we were on our way home.
We go on, descending the hill on the opposite side
from which we came, and soon turn into the
Whitefield road, reaching the village by way of the
Sand hill. We are sure that all who have seen this
view from this hill at a fitting hour in the afternoon,
and through a favoring air, will agree with the old
gentleman who remarked to some city boarders, " I
tell 'cm if they want to see scenyury, Stebbins hill is
the place."

PHEBE SPAULDING.

A great deal has been written in a general way,
of the hardships endured by the first settlers of New
England.

When we read of the Puritan Fathers landing on
the " stern and rock-bound coast " of Massachusetts,

56 77ie Lancaster Sketch Book.

and their trials and privations, we are filled with
wonder and admiration at the courage and determi-
nation displayed by them, but occasionally there
will come to us from the dim and distant past, tra-
ditions of courage and fortitude borne by our ances-
tors of a later day, that are equally as wonderful.

The following narrative, which is true, illustrates
this in a forcible manner, and gives us some idea of
what the women of that early day endured.

In the year 1769, a party of emigrants started
from Londonderry, in the southern part of New
Hampshire, for Upper Coos of the same state, the
distance being about one hundred and fifty miles.

Glowing accounts had come to them of the fer-
tile lands on the banks of the Connecticut that could
be had for almost nothing, and inspired by the hope
of winning a home and perhaps a fortune in this
unbroken wilderness, they decided, notwithstanding
the great hardships they would have to endure, to

go-
Packing bedding and a few household utensils on

the backs of horses, and each with as much as they

could carry, they started from Londonderry the first

of May.

Among the number was a young man, Phineas

Spaulding, his wife, Phebe, who was a descendant

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 57

of the famous Mrs. Dustin, and one child about one
year and a half old.

They had not much to take with them, save stout
hearts, and plenty of courage and hope.

The one precious thing Phebe had, was a copper
tea-kettle, that had been brought from England by
her mother, who was dead. This kettle, which
would hold about three quarts, was packed full of
packages of tea, pepper, spices and garden seeds,
and was altogether too valuable to be entrusted out
of her hands; so she started with her baby boy, Ed-
ward, in her arms, and carrying the tea-kettle, to
walk a hundred and fifty miles.

She was a small, pretty looking woman, with
brown hair and hazel eyes, and possessed wonder-
ful power of endurance. She was graceful and ag-
ile in her movements. I have been told that when
she wished to mount a horse, she would put her
hand on his shoulder and jump from the ground to
his back.

It was just at night-fall on the fifth day after this
little party left Londonderry, that they approached
the small settlement of Haverhill. The remainder
of the way was through the wilderness, where their
only guide would he marked trees. The emigrants
were hospitably entertained bv the people of Haver-

5 8 The Lancaster Sketch Book,

hill, and were urged to remain a few days and rest,
but they were anxious to get to their journey's end,
and only stayed one night.

In the hurry of getting started the next morning,
Mrs. Spaulding put her baby on the floor, while she
was arranging something, and he being left to him-
self, crept to the hearth and pulled a kettle of hot
water over, and before his mother could reach him,
his feet were scalded.

Of course this accident prevented Mrs. Spaulding
from going on, and it was decided after a consulta-
tion with others, for her to remain a few days. It
would be necessary for some one to return to Hav-
erhill for some meal, so Mr. Spaulding told his
wife to wait patiently, and he would come for her
as soon as he could. Phebe saw her friends depart
with much regret, and watched them until they
were lost from sight in the wood.

It proved that the baby was not very badly burned,
and Mrs. Spaulding was sorry that she had not gone
on with the others, but she waited as patiently as
she could, until the time had passed when her hus-
band should have returned for her. As the days
went by, and he did not come, she resolved she
would wait no longer, but go on alone.

The people she was with, endeavored to persuade

77/r Lancaster Sketch Book. 59

her to remain until her husband came for her, but
from all accounts, Phebe had a will of her own, and
would not consent to remain, but started with her
baby, and carrying the tea-kettle and a good supply
of food, for a walk of fifty miles, through a dense
woods. Undaunted by fear of wild animals or In-
dians, she marched bravely on, her only guide the
spotted trees. Think of this young, but plucky
little woman, starting with a helpless baby in her
arms, and knowing she would have to remain over
night in the woods, to walk through the wilderness
alone.

On she went, noticing with pleasure, the signs of
spring on every side. The brown buds just bursting,
and the tender green leaves peeping out. She
thought of the garden she would have, planted with
the seeds she had in her tea-kettle. Then she would
beguile the weary way, with snatches of songs or
strains from some old hymns she had heard her
mother sing, until I think the birds must have hushed
their songs to listen to this strange music.

Just as the sun's declining rays gave warning that
the day was almost gone, Phebe came to a pond,
now called " Streeter's Pond," which she must ford;
concluding to wait till morning before crossing, she
began to look around for some place to spend the

60 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

night. Presently the twisted trunk of an old hem-
lock caught her sight. It was crooked in such a
way that it formed a kind of cradle. She fixed a
bed out of some boughs and laid the baby, who was
asleep, in this novel cradle. Then she dug a hole
in the ground close by the tree, and put the tea-ket-
tle in, covering it carefully, so the Indians, should
they come, would not get it.

She ate her supper, and laid down by her babyr
not meaning to go to sleep. Long she lay gazing
up through the branches of the trees, at the stars
twinkling in the sky, and listened to the hoot of the
owl, and screech of the catamount, but her walk of
twenty-five miles, and carrying the baby, had tired
her so she could not keep awake, and commending
her baby and herself to him " whose eye never slum-
bers or sleeps," she fell into a dreamless slumber.

When she awoke the day was breaking, and the
birds had already commenced their morning concert.
She arose from her uncomfortable bed, feeling lame
and unrefreshed, but thankful the night had been
passed in safety. She ate her breakfast, resurrect-
ed her tea-kettle, and was soon on her way. She
was determined not to pass another night in the
woods alone, and went on as far as she could, only
stopping a little while to rest, and eat her dinner.

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 61

Just at dark, when she was beginning to think she
would not be able to go on, as she could not see the
marked trees, the path began to widen, and as she
reached the top of a hill, she almost shouted for jov,
for in a little valley :>t the foot of the hill, were a
few log houses, and from the open door of one, she
could see the cheerful gleams of firelight; how
pleasant it looked to the chilled, exhausted woman.
Pressing on, she directed her steps to that house,
and was kindly received by the inmates; from them
she learned that she had reached Lancaster, but her
destination was six miles farther on. Gladly she
accepted their hospitality until morning, when she
finished her journey, arriving at Northumberland
about noon, giving her husband, who was just mak-
ing preparations to go for her, a great surprise.
Phebe found her anxiety had been needless. Mr.
Spaulding bad delayed going back to Haverhill un-
til he had put up a rude log house, so Phebe found
a home awaiting her, and they were soon settled at
housekeeping. Their furniture was of the rudest
kind, all being home-made. But her tea-kettle sang
just as cheerfully on her humble hearth, as it had
done in her childhood's home, and she would sit be-
fore the fire, holding her baby, and think of the
time when, instead of the woods that now encom-

62 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

passed their house, fields of waving grass and corn
would be seen, and their log house exchanged for a
nice framed building.

She had planted her garden, and already the seeds
were springing up; but there were times when it
looked very dark to the poor emigrants. The In-
dians were troublesome, food was not plenty,
indeed their chief dependence was upon hunting
and fishing. Some of the party were anxious to
return to Londonderry, and Mr. Spaulding would
have been easily persuaded to have done so, had it
not been for his wife. It is said that she was set-
ting out some cabbage plants in her garden one af-
ternoon, when some of those who wished to return
came to talk the matter over; but Phebe put her
hoe down decidedly, and told them " all to go, every
one; she never would."

She felt sure it only required patience and perse-
verance, to make that " wilderness blossom like the
rose."

It happened one time during that first year, that
Mr. Spaulding had gone hunting, to be gone two
or three days, leaving Phebe and the baby -alone.
As it began to be dark, she thought she would take
her baby and gc to the nearest neighbor's, which
was about a mile, but decided she would not be so

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 63

foolish, and going to the door to close and fasten it,
six Indians confronted her.

They had approached the house so noiselessly she
had not heard them. Her heart sank within her as
she saw them, hut trying to speak as if she had no
fear, she inquired what they wanted ; they informed
her; " they had come to her house to have a pow-
wow." Prohahly surprise parties had not come in
fashion then, and Phebe was rather embarrassed at
the announcement, but knowing that she must not
offend the Indians by refusing, bade them come in.

They seated themselves around the fire, inviting
Phebe to join them, and not daring to refuse, she sat
down with them, holding her baby in her arms.
The Indians had plenty of " fire water," and com-
menced drinking, passing the bottle to Phebe, would
say, "brave white squaw no 'fraid drink firewater."
She would make a pretence of accepting their offer
and to appear as if she was not frightened. For
hours the Indians kept up a perfect bedlam, until
one by one they were overcome by the " fire wa-
ter," and sank into a drunken stupor. Through
the whole night Mrs. Spaulding sat there holding
her child.

In the morning the Indians aroused from their
sleep and crept out of the house. Ever after that

64 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

Mrs. Spaulding was considered a heroine by them,
and called the " brave white squaw," and they ex-
pressed their admiration of her behavior to them,
by bringing her presents of game, fish and corn.
Mrs. Spaulding's dream was fulfilled; she saw the
wilderness disappear before the ax of the woodman,
and thrifty farms and comfortable homes take its
place.

She lived to be about eighty, leaving many de-
scendants to cherish her memorv. The copper tea-
kettle is in the possession of a great-great-grand-
daughter, who considers it one of her household
treasures.

THE DRIVE AROUND MT. PROSPECT.

Of all short drives in this vicinity, the one around
Mt. Prospect affords the grandest mountain views.

We drive up the Sand Hill, and along the Jeffer-
son road for a mile, passing on the right, Holton
Hill, and on the left, getting a charming view of
the Pilot range, and the "outcast" part of the
town. We also notice, close to the roadside on the
left, a number of acres of smooth green grass, slop-
ing toward Israel's river, whose course through the
narrow valley can be traced by the trees and bushes

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 65

that fringe its banks; this land is quite a contrast to
the rugged rocky pastures on either side of it, which
are samples of what this was, before the rocks and
stones had been removed, and built into the sub-
stantial wall that surrounds it. Just in front, we
get a grand view of the White Mountains.

Presently we arrive at a road leading to the right,
which is our way. We now have Mt. Pleasant di-
rectly in front, Mt. Prospect a little to the left of it.
The road is gradually ascending until we arrive at
the " Freeman place," on the top of the hill. From
this point we get a most beautiful view of the cul-
tivated land, extending from the base half way up
the side of Mt. Prospect. A maple grove, enclosed
by a stone wall, stands stately and graceful, among
the patches of corn, vellow rye and half ripened
oats, and above all the tree-crowned summit of the
mountain, making a ir.ost perfect landscape picture.
A short distance beyond the " Freeman place," we
turn to the left, and are on the direct road around
Mt. Prospect.

How delightfully shady and pleasant it is! What
a profusion of growth there is about us! Moisture
and the right proportion of light and shade, give
here the best conditions for the growth of the fern,
which can be found in the woods on the right, grow

66 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

ing in great quantities and variety. The rare spec-
imen known as the maiden hair, is found here in
abundance; this locality is quite noted as the only
place in the vicinity of Lancaster where this fern
can be found.

As we go on, the trees on either side increase in
size, until the over hanging branches almost meet.
The birds seem to think the top of these swaying
trees a splendid place to practice their songs; the
" dim woods " ring with their blithesome singing,
and the red squirrel runs about in a pert, nimble way,
or sits up to nibble a choice bit he has found, with
his tail held gi'acefully over his back. On the right,
we notice among the trees, masses or ledges of rocks,
piled in some places to a considerable height, cov-
ered with beautiful green moss; in some places the
rents and fissures contain soil, from which shrubs
and even small trees are growing. Emerging from
this lovely piece of woods, we come to a breadth of
open country. On the left, beyond the undulating
acres of the farm now owned by Mr. Johnson, but
originally settled and occupied for many years by a
man known as " Quaker Eastman," we can see the
village of Jefferson, with Mt. Starr King, rising
above it; a little to the right is Bray Hill, and tow-
ering grandly over all, are the White and Franconia
mountain ranges.

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 67

We drive on, passing on the right a brook, that
comes hurrying down the hillside, as if in haste to
join the "brimming river." Now we pass on the
left, the *' old Lovejoy farm," long the home of
Abial Lovejoy, father of John Lovejoy, a former
resident of Lancaster. The place is now owned by
Mr. Alexander.

On the opposite side a little farther along, we ar-
rive at the Bucknam place. This farm was settled
by Edward Bucknam, and was his home during his
life. Mrs. Sarah Bucknam, his widow, is still liv-
ing in the old home, at the advanced age of ninety-
seven, and is, I am informed, the oldest woman in
town. She retains her memory in a remarkable
manner, and can read, sew and knit, as well as many
much younger women. This farm is now in the
possession of Mr. Jacobs, a son-in-law of Mrs.
Bucknam. The quantity and quality of the butter
made on this farm, is quite celebrated.

On the same side of the road a few rods beyond,
we come to the old Week's place, which is situated
on the slope, but near the base of Mt. Prospect,
and is now known as " Prospect farm." This place
was settled and house erected by James B. Weeks,
father of Judges James W. and William D. Weeks.
In what used to be the kitchen, the original fire-

68 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

place still remains; and in the front hall, there is a
stair-case and railing, made by Judge James W.
Weeks.

In selecting this situation, on which to -build his
house, Mr. Weeks certainly displayed a taste for
grand mountain scenery. There is not a spot in
town, where the White Mountain and Franconia
ranges can be seen so boldly outlined, as from this
raised plateau in front of Prospect farm house. A
broad sweep of rolling hills, pastures and cultivated
fields, with stately groves of maple and dark pine,
stretch away for miles in front of the house. Be-
yond, on the left, we see Jefferson village with the
Pilot range for a back-ground, nearly in front Bray
Hill and Cherry Mountain, on the left the village
of Bethlehem with Mt. Agassiz just beyond it.
Majestically rising above all, are the White and
Franconia mountains, at just the right distance to
display the confederate strength of the chain, and
mellow the gorges and ravines that channel their
sides into beauty and grandeur. We need no tele-
scope to enable us to see the road winding up Mt.
Washington, and the house at the top is plainly dis-
cernable. The long serrated summit of Mt. Lafay-
ette is seen to better advantage from this point, than
from any place we know of in this vicinity. Many

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 69

vears ago, there used to be a beaver meadow on
the opposite side of the road from this house, but all
traces of it have long since disappeared.

Many improvements have been made at Prospect
Farm the last few years by the present owner, Mr.
George P. Rowell. Stones and rocks removed
from the land and built into substantial walls. Trees
planted. A flower garden artistically laid out. A
beautiful maple grove just back of the house cleared
of underbrush, and with hammocks and seats, affords
a charming retreat for a summer day. Commodi-
ous barns and out-buildings have been erected, and
short-horned cattle, Shropshire-down sheep, and
Berkshire swine, are taking the place of the com-
mon stock.

Reluctantly we turn away from this grand view,
and drive on. We are now on the opposite side of
Mt. Prospect, the road winding along between Mt.
Prospect and Pleasant. The view driving down
this road to the village, it is down all the way, is
very lovely, and quite different from the prospect
we had going. We now see broad meadows
extending for miles toward the north and west,
the Connecticut winding in graceful curves through
the green verdure; beyond the tree-crowned hills,
rise the mountain ranges of Vermont, the hazy

yo The Lancaster Sketch Book.

summits mingling with the wonderful blue of the
summer sky.

The houses of the village clustering in the valley,
the red roof of the Lancaster House easily distin-
guished from the others. The tapering church
spires pointing upward, and all illuminated with a
golden glow, from the sun, slowly sinking behind
the hills, make another beautiful picture to hang on
the walls of our memory.

We come into the village from the Whitefield
road, and drive down the Sand Hill, rattle over the
bridge, reaching our home as

" All the sky is grand with clouds,

And athwart the evening air
Wheel the swallows home in crowds."

OUR " BUNKER HILL."

Probably there are many in our village, who are
not familiar with the story which caused the hill on
the left of Summer street to receive the appelation
of « Bunker Hill."

The facts in regard to the origin of the name are
as follows:

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 71

Many years ago there resided in our town a man
of great muscular strength, who from his youth up
had been the conqueror in feats of strength and
wrestling matches.

The Fourth of July and muster days, were
occasions on which he displayed his prowess, and
won his laurels.

One fall, when the annual muster was in progress
on Holton meadow, and people had come in large
numbers to witness the military display, this man,
whom I have mentioned, met his first rival.

There appeared that day upon the scene, a man
of splendid physique, young and agile. He had re-
cently returned from a whaling voyage, and alto-
gether was considered quite a hero. Very jealously
this young athlete was watched as he displayed his
gymnastic powers, by the man who was no longer
young, but who until to-day had born the palm
of victory alone; now he must admit he had a
rival.

It was suggested, that there should be a wrestling
match between these two, but the older man decided
that was not the place for a real trial of strength.
Before the day had passed, it had been arranged in
a confidential manner between these two, that they
would meet the next morning at sunrise, on the hill

72 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

I have mentioned, and settle which was the best
man in a good square fight.

It chanced that a boy overheard the making of
this arrangement, and before sunrise next morning,
many a stump, stone and tree, on the hill, concealed
an expectant spectator. Punctually the men arrived
on i he spot, and a hard contested battle was fought,
resulting in the defeat of the veteran of so many
fights and wrestling matches.

This was too much for the boys, who burst into a
loud hurrah, as they scampered down the hill to tell
the great news that Old Blank had been whipped at
last.

Ever since that morning the scene of this contest
has been called " Bunker Hill."

THE DRIVE TO EGYPT.

Of the two beautiful meadow drives in this vicin-
ity, perhaps the one to " Egypt " through the Con-
necticut river meadows, to the " William Weeks
place," affords more variety of scenery than the one
to the " Stock well meadows:" however, both are
most charming drives. In going to " Egypt," we

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 73

lea\e the village by the Baker Hill, taking the sec-
ond turn to the right, we soon pass, on the left, the
old arsenal; being no longer required for the store-
house of war-like equipments, it has become the
peaceful abode of Mr. Streeter's horse.

Directly in front is a beautiful view of rolling
meadows, and further on the green hills of Ver-
mont. On the right the " twin peaks " stand like
sentinels guarding Cape Horn.

We soon arrive at a point where the road diverg-
es to the right and left. The left is our way. Just
at the turn we pass on the right, on a sunny hill-
side, the Catholic cemetery. We are now on the
road to " Egypt." This title arising, so I am in-
formed, by the failure, many years ago, of the corn
crop in this town, save that which was planted in
this vicinity, which grew in a remarkable way and
yielded abundantly.

As the people were obliged to come here for corn,
thev were probably reminded of the story in the
Old Testament of Joseph's brethren who were sent
to Egypt to buy corn. In this way the name was
acquired, and ever since, the drive in this direction
has been called "going to Egypt." The road is level
and smooth, bordered on each side by green fields
radiant with buttercups and elder flowers.

74 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

We soon come to the " Chessman place " on the
right. This farm was first settled by a man by the
name of Bruce. Just on the opposite side of the
road is the " Brooks farm."

The highway ends here, but by the courtesy of the
owners of the land, people are allowed to drive on
by the bank of the river and through the meadow,
to the highway.

On our right the shining river rolls along, its
banks o'erhung with alders and birch. Just on the
other side we see the old Hopkins place, now owned
by the Rhodes brothers.

Eighteen noble elms stand gracefully grouped
together in the foreground, making a beautiful and
conspicuous featiu-e in the landscape. Long
may they be spared from the relentless ax and
saw.

On our left the broad meadow rolls away for a
mile. Dancing shadows of light and shade from
the great banks of soft, white clouds, that float
majestically through the sky, chase each other over
the billowy grass.

Gradually the ground rises from this green plane,
and we see the farms on the slope of Mt. Pleasant
and Stebbins' hill. The color of the different har-
vests contrast pleasantly with the dark green of the

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 75

pine trees that cover the hillsides. Above all, Mt.
Prospect looks down like some patriarch over the
wide family of hills settled comfortably about
him.

Far away to the west the horizon is framed with
hills, the most distant seem to touch " high heaven,"
and lose themselves amid the clouds.

We drive on through this sea of green, ar-
riving at the South Lancaster road just by the
« Weeks place."

Turning to our left, we are on the way to the vil-
lage, soon passing on our right the " Brackett
place," and on the left the farms of Messrs. Hil-
liard and Woodward, formerly owned by Rowell
brothers.

Going along another mile and a half, we see the
village cosily situated along a level plane, just un-
der the rim of the hills, presenting from this view
an entirely different aspect than from Sand
Hill.

From the top of Baker Hill we get a fine point of
the White Mountains and Pilot range.

This drive should be considered one of the most
delightful short drives, affording , as it does,
varied and charming views of river, meadows and
mountains.

76 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

A TRUE STORY.

The following incident which I am about to re-
late is true, but all who were interested in the oc-
currence, save one, departed many years ago, on
that " long journey from whence none ever return."

No doubt all who are acquainted with the sur-
roundings of the village, have noticed four very
handsome elm trees, that stand near a little brook,,
on the south-east corner of the lot now owned by
Parker J. Noyes. These trees were set out about
seventy years ago, by a woman of the name of
Hart, who had a rude little cottage near there.

No trace of the humble home remains. The
hands that brought the little saplings from the
woods, and planted them by her door, have long
since mouldered into dust, but the trees are stand-
ing, graceful and stately monuments to her memory,
and the brook still chatters over the stones, singing
as it goes,

" Men may come, and men may go,
But I go on forever."

In the year 1812, there was living in Canada a
man and wife by name of Hart. Their home had
formerly been in Massachusetts, but for some rea-
son they had removed to Canada. Mr. Hart had

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 77

purchased a good farm, and these people, who were
no longer young, had every prospect of spending
their declining days in comfort and prosperity, but
all these anticipations were destroyed, by the declar-
ation of the war of 1812, which occurred on the
1 8th of June of that year.

Soon an edict from the king, proclaiming
that the property of all the citizens of Canada,
who would not take arms against the United States,
should be confiscated to the crown. Although it
must have been a hard decision, Mr. Hart did not
hesitate to relinquish all the property he had,
rather than espouse the cause of the enemies of his
native land.

Leaving his home, he started with his wife for the
States. Having relatives residing at Jefferson, X.
H., he decided to go there ; but the loss of his
property, together with bad health, so preyed upon
his mind, that within a short time he became insane.
Mr. Hart lived a few years in this unfortunate con-
dition. His wife took care of him, and did what
she could toward their support, his relations assist-
ing her. After his death, she decided to go to
Lancaster to live, hoping to get more work to do
there.

The rude cottage, consisting of only one room,

78 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

was built for her, on the spot I have mentioned r
and she took possession of it, living there a num-
ber of years, supporting herself by spinning and
weaving, receiving gratefully the presents of food
and other things, that kind people sent her.

Mrs. Hart was a woman of some education, and
as I am informed, "a good Christian," believing
firmly in the teachings of the Bible ; but in the
course of time she grew rather eccentric, living so
much alone, and like many elderly people, dreamed
dreams and saw visions. W'th the passing years
she grew very infirm, but still she lived on in her
little home, though she seemed to be too aged to
be left alone.

Some may inquire why a poor and almost help-
less woman, was left to live in this way. In those
days, there were no comfortable places for such
people to go to. The poor were put up at public
auction, to be bid off by the lowest bidder, who
was to board them, at the expense of the town.

Mrs. Hart, who had once been in good circum-
stances, still had considerable pride, and would not
consent to be sold at auction, like a bale of goods,
or live stock.

One cold morning, late in the fall, a boy about
twelve years of age, started with his gun on his

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 79

sin miller, for a walk through the woods, hoping to
fiml some partridges or other game.

As he came in the vicinity of Mrs. Hart's house,
he could hear boys laughing and shouting, " Why
don't you get up, you old witch ? " Hastening on,
he soon came in sight of two boys, about his own
age, who were throwing stones into the brook, and
splashing the cold water upon Mrs. Hart, who had
fallen, in attempting to dip a pail of water from
the brook. The ground being frozen and icy along
the bank, she had fallen in such a way that her feet
were submerged in the water.

Calling out to the boys to desist in their cruel
conduct, John, as we will call him, ran to the as-
sistance of the poor old woman.

With great difficulty he got her up, and partly
carrying and partly dragging her, got her into her
house, and on the bed.

Mrs. Hart was so exhausted, with cold and fright,
that she could hardly speak. John saw that the
fire in the little fireplace was out, and there was no
wood to rekindle it. lie went out and collected
some sticks, made a good fire, and then asked Mrs.
Hart if she had anything to eat in the house. She
replied, " Not much — some potatoes." Boys, sixty
years ago, did not have much money, but John had

So The Lancaster Sketch Book.

a. silver " fo-pence half penny " piece in his pocket,
one he had kept for a long time. Telling Mrs.
Hart he would soon return, he ran down the hill to
the first store he came to, and exchanged his silver
piece for some "crackers. These he carried back to
the old woman, whom he found sitting by the fire,
trying to dry her wet clothing. Having now done
all he could for her comfort, he was about to leave,
when Mrs. Hart raised her withered hand and bade
him come to her. "John," she said, " remember
the words of an old woman, whose sands of life
are almost run. I should have died by the bi'ook-
side, with the laughter and jeering remarks of those
wicked boys ringing in my ears, had it not been for
you, but it has been my death blow. I want you
to listen to what I am about to say, and remember
it is the prophecy of a dying woman:"

"I see you, as in a vision, growing up to manhood,
respected by all. You will become prosperous;
land and money will be yours; a happy home, with
wife and children to be a blessing and comfort to
you, and your days will be long upon the earth;
but those boys who saw me, stooping with age and
infirmity, slip on the icy ground, and instead of
coming to my assistance, threw stones, and derided
me with laughter and scorn, the judgment of God

T/ic Lancaster Stcfc/t Book. 81

will follow. A comfortable or happy home, neither
will ever have, and disgrace and ruin will follow
their footsteps. You will live to see this fulfilled,
and remembering what has happened to-day, air-
knowledge my prophecy proved correct." Mrs.
Hart uttered these words in a very impressive man-
ner.

Soon after, John left the cottage, and thought as
he walked away, that he would always remember
what the old woman had said.

He was a poor boy, and had not any faith that
such a good fortune could be for him. The next
day a neighbor, who went to see Mrs. Hart, found
the door fastened, and receiving no answer to re-
peated raps, burst the door open, and found the old
lady lying upon her bed, insensible. Other neigh-
bors were called in, and the doctor sent for, but all
efforts to arouse her proved unavailing. It was
decided to move her to a more comfortable place.
She was carried to a house near by, where, within
two days, she died.

More than fifty years have passed since the death
of Mrs. Hart. What has become of the three boys,
whose future she predicted? Singular as it may
seem, the prophecy has been fulfilled.

One, soon after reaching manhood, committed a

82 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

criminal offense, and was sentenced to a long term
in the state prison, where he died before the expir-
ation of the sentence.

The other grew up, worthless and dissipated,
and his last days were spent in the poor house.

John, by hard work, economy and temperance,
acquired a competence. Is now surrounded by all
the comforts of life. A good wife and children
make his declining days happy, and he is an hon-
ored citizen of our town.

THE SOLILOQUY OF THE OLD ACADEMY.

Surely this is a world of change; when I look
back over my past life, and recall all I have been
through, I wonder there is an original board left on
my frame.

It seldom falls to the lot of a building, to experi-
ence the vicissitudes that I have. When I was new !
Ah, me! how long ago! I stood at the north end
of the village, and was known as the court house.
To be sure I was not a very handsome building, but
many far more elegant edifices have not sheltered
people of the talent and education I have.

I can recall with pride, the names of Daniel Web-

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 83

i, Levi Woodbury, Ichabod Hartlett, Joseph Hell
and others, whose voices have been heard within
my walls.

I was not only used for a court house, but also for
religious services by the Methodist society, before
their church was built, and have been occupied by
the Masonic Fraternity. It will not do for me to
reveal the remarkable scenes I have witnessed dur-
ing their meetings, or I might in my old age share
the fate of John Morgan.

After a number of years, it was considered neces-
sary to build a new court house; about that time
the people were talking of starting a high school,
and it was thought best to convert me into an acad-
emy. This was done, and for several years I
was used for that purpose on the spot above men-
tioned. After a while it was decided to remove me
to a more central location; accordingly I was taken
down the street, to the spot where the academy now
stands. I did not so very much mind the journey.
I was, comparatively speaking, young then, and
rather liked the idea of a change.

I stood the trip very well, although I must admit
I got a pretty severe shaking, and was very glad to
get settled.

I was somewhat enlarged, new desks were put in.

84 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

A steeple was built, in which a bell was hung, which
is now on the graded school building.

I remember with pride, the large number of
learned and accomplished gentlemen, who taught
the school during the years I was the " academy."
Every day, men and women pass me, who received
most of their education beneath my roof, and many
have gone forth into the " great world," but I have
no doubt memory often reverts to the peaceful
shades of this village, and- happy school days, passed
in the " old academy."

With the passing years, I became old-fashioned,
and rather dilapidated, and it was considered best to
have a new building for the school; so I was sold
to a society known as " Baptists," and was moved
farther down the street, and on the opposite side.
I felt sorry to leave the spot where I had stood so
long, and where I had hoped to spend my days. I
was then completely remodeled. The old desks
were removed, new windows put in, and pews made,
an alcove and raised platform were built at one end,
on which a pulpit was placed. At the right of the
pulpit was an orchestra, where an organ was put,
a carpet was laid down, and church furniture put in.
I felt rather proud of my appearance, when all was
accomplished, I was no longer the " old academy,"
but the " Baptist church."

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 85

My prosperity, however, was short-lived. Meet-
ings were held quite regularly for a while, but I
conclude from what I overheard, that the financial
condition of the society was rather low. They
could not support a minister. Occasionally a ser-
vice would be held, but they became less and less
frequent and farther apart, until they finally ceased.

Then came a sad period in my life. One who
has been useful, dislikes to find themselves stand for
nothing in a community. I was occasionally used
for temperance or prayer meetings, but most of the
time I was left lonely and sad, with plenty of time
to repent of my vanity, and the airs I had assumed,
at being converted into a church.

After a few years I passed out of the hands of
the Baptist society, but still remained useless.

One day I was aroused from the stupid condition
into which I had fallen, by having my doors and
window blinds thrown open. Some men came and
commenced to take out the pews. I wondered what
was going to happen, and listened attentively to
their talk. I soon discovered another change a-
waited me. I was to be made into an " armory."
What a life they do lead me! I thought; but still I
had rather wear out than rust out.

All appearance of a church disappeared. A nice

86 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

hard wood floor was laid down, and soon I began
to present a very war-like appearance. Soldiers'
accoutrements were placed about my walls, and my
floor resounded to the martial tread of armed men.
I was now an " armory," and should have been
rather proud, only I remembered my experience as
" church." An entire change now took place in
my life.

Instead of religious services, dances and merry-
makings were in order. I will admit I was shocked
at first, at the idea of turning a church into a danc-
ing hall, but soon found out I was old-fashioned in
my notions, and resigned myself to my fate.

During the time I was an " armory," I was fre-
quently used for other things. Ice cream festivals,
sewing circles, sociables, etc., but the most surpris-
ing thing of all, was the roller skating. The jars
and severe treatment I received by those people,
was something awful, and the noise nearly made
me crazy. I was only too thankful when it was
decided to go where there was more room.

I should have had a very dull time after that, on-
ly for some musical rehearsals, which I enjoyed
very much.

One day as I was thinking over the past, and re-
gretting that I could not be made more useful in my

7'//<- Lancaster Sketch Book. 87

old age, I heard some men come in. They com-
menced to take down the guns and other soldierly
equipments, and carry them out.

" What's coming now? " I thought. Again I lis-
tened to the conversation, and was astonished to
hear I was going to be a " public library! "

Workmen soon began to put up book-shelves,
and make other alterations, to fit me for the new
position I was to occupy.

I think the painting of my exterior has given me
more pleasure than anything that has been done. I
was getting so shabby I was really ashamed of my-
self. The color is so suitable for my age, too, " neat
but not gaudy."

I declare, it makes me feel quite chipper, to think
I am to have such an honorable position. I trust
that after all my trying experiences, my last days
may be passed as a library, but after what I have
been through, I am prepared for anything.

THE OLD ACADEMY.

THE DRIVE AROUND THE GORE.

Who that has taken the drive around the Gore
does not remember it with pleasure? We leave

88 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

the village by Middle street. The road is gradually
ascending until we reach the " Bush farm." From
this point, the view is exceedingly lovely. On the
left is the Pilot range, towering over the interven-
ing hills. These mountains seem to be a favorite
ground for shadows, and from here the mantle of
spotted light and shade that envelop them, is admir-
ably displayed. In front, the road can be seen
winding along for some distance, bordered on either
side with pleasant, homelike looking houses. On
the right are the undulating meadows of Israel's
river, whose circuitous course can be easily traced
through the green verdure, by the trees and bushes
that overhang its banks. This little valley is one
of the pleasantest places in Lancaster — shut in on
either side by hills, piled together in every way that
is picturesque.

We soon pass on our left, the " Freeman place,"
originally the home of Samuel White, father of
Nathaniel White, who left his home at an early age,
for Concord, N. H. Arriving there with only one
shilling in his pocket, by industry, economy and
temperance, he accumulated a large fortune.

We drive along the smooth, hard road, passing^
on the left by the " Weeks place," a long row of
tamarack trees, which were set out many years ago

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 89

b\- Mr. Ilc-mminway, a former owner of the place.
On our right is the little brick house, known for
many years as the " W hippie place." The brick-
yard, which used to be on the opposite side of the
road, has disappeared.

On we go, passing the pleasant homes of the
Spauldings, crossing the bridge over the " great
brook," we ascend the hill by the " Smith place."
On the right is a charming view of Mt. Prospect
and Pleasant, and the farm-houses and orchards, on
the south road leading to Jefferson.

Passing the Stalbird and Savage places, we ar-
rive at the " Cummings farm," where the road
curves to the left. On the right is a grand and ex-
tensive view. Beyond the swells and rolls of land,
Jefferson Mills is seen, somewhat to the left are the
houses of Jefferson Hill, and rising above all, the
glistening summits of the White Mountains.

The north road can be seen the whole distance,
and the cleared land, patches of grain and corn on
the slope and base of the Pilot range, all making a
beautiful landscape picture of

" Cultivated slopes, and tracts of forest ground and scattered

groves,
And mountains bare, or clothed with ancient forests."

Before reaching the " Stillings place," the road is

9°

The Lancaster Sketch Book.

bordered on either side for some distance with beau-
tiful maple trees. Whoever planted them, deserves
to be gratefully remembered. Leaving the road to
Jefferson, we are on the direct way around the
Gore.

Very soon we enter one of the most beautiful
pieces of woods in Lancaster. The road, white and
hard, stretches away like the aisle of a cathedral,
and is lost beneath the leafy arches of maple and
beech.

Emerging from this lovely place, and crossing a
little bridge that spans another portion of the great
brook, Garland's mills are seen on the left, and we
presently pass a neat cottage house, recently erected
by E. C. Garland, who is experimenting in hatch-
ing chickens by artificial incubation.

Driving on, we presently pass a beautiful maple
grove on the hillside at the left, known as " Pilot
Heights Grove," a favorite place for picnics.

On the right, beyond the cultivated land, are acres
of primeval forest, as yet untouched by the ax of the
woodman. Above and beyond these woods, Percy
Peaks and Cape Horn are boldly outlined against
the sky.

Passing the Plaisted and Stockwell farms, we
hear the hum of a saw-mill, and very soon we see

Tltf Lancaster Sketch Book. 91

on the right Stockwell's mills and the Grange.
Another mile brings us into the "out east " road
just by the " Week's place." From here we return
on the same road by which we left the village, and
finish our delightful drive, just as

" Slowly o'er the pleasant landscape
Falls the evening's dusk and coolness."

THE FARRAR HOUSE MYSTERY.

The house in which the following remarkable
event occurred, was situated on the spot where the
Catholic parsonage now stands, and was known as
the Farrar house.

It is only a few years since this house, which was
a large two-story building, was taken down, and
there are many, now living in town, who knew the
Farrar family, but as far as I have been able to as-
certain, the only one now living in the village, who
was here in 1818, the year in which this incident
transpired, is Mrs. Allen Smith, who was a girl of
eighteen at that time, and was teaching school here.
She was familiar with the whole affair, and I am
indebted to her for the following account.

At the time I am writing of, this house was occu-

92 The Lancaster Sketch Book,

pied by Deacon Farrar and wife, a young man by
name of George Kibby, a relative of Mrs. Farrar's,
and a young girl, Hannah Nute, who assisted Mrs.
Farrar about the housework. She was a small,
delicate looking girl, with very pretty blue eyes,
and brown hair.

Deacon Farrar, as his name indicates, was deacon
of the Congregational church, a lawyer by profes-
sion, and had for some years been clerk of the court.
He was a small, spare man, very agreeable and
pleasant in his manners. Besides discharging his
duties as deacon, he was also a member of the choir,
and played upon a very large bass viol.

Mrs. Farrar was a tall, thin woman, with dark
hair, which she wore arranged in little curls at each
side of her face; and she always wore a turban-
shaped cap, which gave her a very majestic appear-
ance. She was very dignified in her manners, and
a little inclined to be aristocratic ; but a most excel-
lent woman, and a devout member of the church.

Hannah Nute occupied a bedroom on the ground
floor and opening out of the kitchen, the other mem-
bers of the family slept up-stairs. One night Han-
nah was awakened by hearing a loud rap under
her bed. She was much startled, but thinking it
might be the rats in the cellar, was just going to

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 93

sleep, when she was again disturbed by hearing
three distinct raps in the same place. Thoroughly
aroused and frightened, she jumped from her bed,
ran through the kitchen to the hall, and up the stairs,
calling, " Oh! Mrs. Farrar, Mrs. Farrar," as she fell
almost fainting at her chamber door.

" What do you mean, Hannah, by giving me such
a fright? I thought the house was on fire," said
Mrs. Farrar, opening the door.

" There is some one under my bed," said Hannah,
gasping for breath.

" What nonsense, you have been dreaming."

" Oh, no! I wan't asleep, and they rapped three
times very loud on the floor."

" Oh, Hannah, lam surprised that you should be so
foolish, but come, I will go down with you and look
under your bed."

" Oh, hadn't you better get the deacon to go and
look, I am sure some one is there?" but Mrs.
Farrar was already half way down stairs, and with
fear and trembling, Hannah followed her. Mrs. Far-
rar stopped in the kitchen and lighted a candle by the
coals that were still brightly glowing on the hearth,
and going into Hannah's room looked under the
bed. Hannah had not ventured into the room.

u Come here and look for yourself. Now are

94 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

you convinced you were dreaming?" said Mrs.
Farrar, as Hannah stepped into the room. Just at
that moment, three distinct raps came, apparently
from beneath the girl's feet.

She gave a loud scream and ran into the kitchen,
Mrs. Farrar following rather quickly for her.

" Oh, some one is in the cellar, do call the deacon,"
said Hannah.

Just then George Kibby, who had been awakened
by Hannah's screams, came rushing into the kitchen,
calling out, "What is the matter?" closely followed
by the deacon, who said, " Why, wife! what is this
commotion? "

Mrs. Farrar explained the cause of this unusual
excitement, and as if to corroborate her statement,
there came a succession of loud raps on the kitchen
floor.

" There," screamed Hannah.

" This is really alarming," said Mrs. Farrar.

" I will soon find out what is making this disturb-
ance," said the deacon, taking the long iron fire-
shovel in one hand, and the candlestick in the other,
and starting for the cellar door. George took the
tongs and followed, Mrs. Farrar brandishing a
broom, and Hannah, with a big stick of wood,
brought up the rear. The cellar was thoroughly

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 95

searched, hut nothing was discovered.

By this time they were all very much alarmed.
A tire was built in the kitchen, and they gathered
around it to talk the matter over.

"Deacon," said Mrs. Farrar, " I think it is a
warning. I have heard of such things."

" I think that the house is haunted," said
George.

" Well," said the deacon, " it is certainly a singu-
lar and startling phenomenon, and I think George
had better go for Parson Willard."

" Perhaps it is best," said Mrs. Farrar.

Meanwhile the rapping continued at short inter-
vals. Hannah became almost prostrated with fright,
the neighbors were sent for, and in the early morn-
ing the parson came; he could offer no explanation
for the remarkable disturbance.

It was thought proper under the circumstances to
hold a religious service, the great family Bible was
brought from the parlor, and a portion of the Script-
ures read, and prayers offered, but still the raps
were heard.

A thorough investigation of the house and cellar
was made, and the blinds on the outside examined;
but nothing could be found to throw the least light
on this mysterious rapping. It was, however, as-

96 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

certained that the raps only came in the room where
Hannah was, and seemed to follow her; some per-
sons thought she must in some way cause them. As
the days went by and there was no cessation of
this rapping, the whole town became excited ; the
house was thronged with people from this, and the
adjoining towns, who came to visit the " haunted
house."

As many of the people in the village were of the
opinion that Hannah Nute must in some way cause
the raps, it was decided to have her watched, and
four of the leading men of the town were appoint-
ed as an investigating committee. They tied the
girl's hands and feet, and laid her on a bed, they
then sat down by her, two on each side of the bed.
In that way she was watched for a day and night,
but meanwhile the raps were heard, on the walls
and floor, and even on the bedstead, but only in the
room where Hannah was.

The committee decided that they could not in any
way account for the raps. Some of the people
thought it was a warning to the family of some
misfortune that would shortly follow, while others
said it must be the work of the devil. The knowl-
edge of knowing that she was suspected of making
the raps, had made Hannah quite ill, and she beg-

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 97

ged to be sent away. On the day she left the house,
the raps were more frequent than they had been,
and as she passed through the hall to the door,
seemed to follow her, and came with great force on
the floor, but that was the last of the raps, whatever
it was that caused them, whether

"Good spirits or bad,
Black spirits or white,"

seemed to leave the house when Hannah did.

Deacon Farrar and family occupied the house for
many years after, and never were troubled by a
repetition of this remarkable occurrence, which has
always remained unexplained, and the rappings at
the Farrar house are still spoken of as a great mys-
tery.

THE DRIVE TO THE TOP OF MT. PROSPECT.

The drive to the top of Mount Prospect is very
pleasant, and easily and safely accomplished by the
good carriage- road, that has been made quite to the
top by VV. H. Smith, who has built a comfortable
hotel, large enough to accommodate thirty-five
guests, on the summit of this mountain.

98 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

Leaving the village by the Sand Hill, we drive
along the Whitefield road for a mile and a half,
when we take a road leading to the left. Another
half mile brings us to the little toll-house at the foot
of the mountain, from here to the top of the moun-
tain the distance is three-quarters of a mile. The
first of the way is only slightly ascending; as we
go on, we come to some steep pitches, but our horses
have no difficulty in taking us safely over them.
The road winds in such a way that the house is not
visible until we turn the last curve, when we come
right upon it. The genial landlord, Mr. W. H.
Smith, stands on the steps to receive us, and we are
soon landed on the broad piazza.

Mount Prospect is 2090 feet above tide-water,
1240 feet above Lancaster village. From the front
piazza of the hotel we see in the foreground Cher-
ry Mountain and, beyond, the whole Presidential
range, crowned in the center by the dome of Mt.
Washington. The belts of pine, and farther up, the
gorges and ravines that sear the mountain's sides,
are easily discerned. The railway and Summit
House on Mt. Washington can be readily dis-
tinguished without the aid of a telescope. On the
right we look down on Mt. Pleasant, Mt. Orne and
Martin meadow pond, glistening like a great mir-

/'//(• Lancaster SAt-/i-/t />ii<>£. 99

ror in a setting of green hills that hem it in on all
sides. Just between these mountains, but far in the
distance, can be seen the tapering spire of a church
in Lunenburg. Turning towara the north-west,
\\ r see the broad valley of the Connecticut, whose
course can be traced for forty miles in sweeping
curves through the luxuriant intervals and by hills
clothed with forests, as with stately grace it flows
down to the sea. Just in the foreground are the
farms of Howe, Hodgdons, and the Daniel Stebbins'
place, now known as the " Smith farm." The
patches of corn, grain, groves of maple and pine,
the farm-houses shaded by apple-trees, and farther
on beyond the rolling hills, the village of Lancaster,
cosily situated in the valley below, all make a
beautiful picture. One might almost imagine, as
they gaze down upon this scene of peace, plenty
and purity, that it was some nook of primitive Eden,
but " distance lends enchantment to the view."

Six villages, four hundred farms, and thirteen
ponds, can be seen from the top of Mount Pros-
pect, all surrounded by a mighty chain of mountains
seven hundred miles in length. It is quite impos-
sible for us to describe the extensive panorama of
charming views that are presented from this mount-
ian. The outlook is grand in everv direction. In

TOO The Lancaster Sketch Book.

order to fully enjoy the trip, one should remain
over night and witness the gorgeous beauties of the
sunset and sunrise.

We see no reason why " Hotel Prospect" should
not become a favorite resort. The cool bracing air
will bring healing to the invalid, and the marvelous
beauty of the view afford peace and rest to the
weary.

The drive down the mountain and to the village
is quickly accomplished, as it is nearly all the way
descending. The sun is just sinking behind the
Vermont hills, shedding a golden splendor over the
meadows, and tinging the Pilot range and Percy
Peaks with rose-color, as we drive down Sand Hill
into the village.

GREAT GRANDMA'S CARPET.

The following sketch, although written in the
form of a story, is strictly true. The grand-mother
•was Mrs. Persis Everett, wife of Judge Everett,
and the carpet was made for a room in what is now
known as the " Cross house." The writer has seen
pieces of the carpet.

" Mother," said Annie Belmont, " It is a lovely

Lancaster Sketch Book. 101

morning. Don't \<>u want to go clown to Porter &
(J ray's ami choose our new carpets? You know
we must get them clown before cousin Dora comes
next week."

" Yes, I will go with you; but I must write some
letters first. I will be ready in an hour."

" Annie," said Grandma Belmont, who was sit-
ting by the fire knitting, " while your mother is
writing, don't you want me to tell you how my
mother got a carpet? "

"Oh, yes, grandma! You know there is noth-
ing I like so well as having you tell an old-fashioned
story."

u Well, my dear, you know, seventy-five years
ago, carpets were not very common. Very few
people had them. There was none made in this
country, and an English carpet was very expensive."

" What did you have on the floors, grandma? "

" Nothing — not even paint; but they were scoured
white as sand could make them. My mother had
only one carpet in the house, and that was on the
parlor floor. It was a green and black English car-
pet. I suppose my mother made the first carpet
that was ever manufactured in New Hampshire, or
even in New England. Your great-grandfather
was a lawyer, and, at that time, Lancaster was not

IO2 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

a shire town; the courts were held at Haverhill.
But after a while, Lancaster was made a shire town.
When father came home from the spring term of
court at Haverhill, he said the next fall the court
would sit in Lancaster, and as there was no suitable
place for the judges to board, he had promised to
take them in. They used to have three judges —
the chief justice and two side judges. I am sure I
don't know what they were called side judges for,
unless it was because one sat on each side of the
judge who attended to all the business. I have of-
ten been into court with father, and I never heard
one say a word. They just sat there and looked
wise. Mother was surprised enough when father
said he was going to board the judges.

' Why, father,' she said, ' what are you thinking
of? There is not room enough in the house.'

' No,' said father, ' but there will be by fall. I
am going to have an addition of two rooms built on
to the house.'

' I don't see,' said mother, ' how we can get car-
pets; but if you are going to have the judges board
here, I will see what can be done.'

It was not very long before father had some men
at work on the new rooms, and mother began to
think something must be done about the carpets.

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 103

So she went up to see Eunice Stockwell, and talked
it over with her. She was the best hand to weave
tlK-rc \\ :is anywhere round.

We had lots of sheep and plenty of wool, so
mother took forty pounds and had it carded into
rolls. Then she got Nancy Greenleaf and Lucy
White to come and spin it.

It was spun into good strong yarn, four skeins to
a pound. I was a little girl, but it seems to me I
can see Nancy and Lucy now, just as they looked
spinning. They had their wheels up in the great
open chamber. It was in summer time, and the
windows were open at each end of the room. I
used to go up there and sit on an old chest by the
window, and watch them spin. Nancy was tall
and slim, and had light hair, which she wore done
up in a little ball on the top of her head, fastened
with a big comb. She wore her dresses quite short,
and as she stepped back and forth turning her wheel,
she was always singing. I never heard her vary
the tune or words:

" Come, Philander, let's be marching.'

She would come down heavy on the ' ching.'
Who Philander was, or where he was going to
march, I never could find out. I used to ask her to
sing some more, but she said that was all she knew.

1 04 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

Lucy was a real pretty girl; she had black eyes
and red cheeks; she used to make fun of Nancy
and her song. Well, in a few weeks, the spinning
was all done; then mother had the yarn carried up
to Eunice Stockwell to be woven, and before long
it was sent home — a great roll of white flannel.
Then it had to be carried to Haverhill, to be fulled
and colored. It was about thirty miles to Haver-
hill, and the only way to go was on horseback.
Job, who was one of the hired men, packed it on to
a horse, and started with it.

Meantime, mother had been coloring yarn — red,
yellow, green and blue. She had to make all her
dyes herself, but she had some bright, handsome
colors. I remember how pretty it looked, hanging
out on the line drying.

After a while, the cloth came home — three great
rolls of dark brown, heavy cloth. Then it was cut
into breadths, the length of the room, and mother
and Aunt Betsy marked them off into squares, about
a foot each way, so they would match when it was
sewed together.

In each square was a large star. It was worked
in what you call Kensington stitch. That's noth-
ing but just the old-fashioned marking stitch. The
squares were worked in green, the stars in yellow,.

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 105

and in each point of the stars were little stars, worked
in different colors; and so the whole carpet was
made by hand. It was real handsome when it was
done. Folks came from all around to see it."

" How I wish I could have seen it, grandma!
Think of working a whole carpet by hand! I have
been nearly all winter doing a table-spread. But
how did they get the furniture for the rooms?"

" Father started for Portland on horse-back —
that was the nearest place where furniture could be
bought."

" How far was it, grandma? "

" A hundred miles, and most of the way through
the woods. But there was a good road, and teams
always going and coming.

Father told mother to send Job along with the
ox-team, after he had been gone two days. Father
got home several days before Job, but at last he
came with a big load of things.

There were two high-posted bed-steads, looking-
glasses, tables and chairs, but what I thought was
nicest of all, were two great bell-metal basins."

" What were they for? "

" They were to fill the place of the earthern
wash-bowls we have nowadays. None were to be
had then. Bell-metal and pewter basins were used
instead.

106 The Lancaster Sketch Book,

Well, the rooms looked very nice when they were
done. Mother put up some green and white checked
bed-curtains, home-made, out of flax and wool, and
trimmed with yellow fringe.

When court set, in November, the judges came
to our house, and always after for every term of
court for many years.

Now, all you have to do when you want a car-
pet, is to go to the store and select it; but I am sure
you can never have one you can feel half so proud
of as mother did of hers."

" Come, Annie," said Mrs. Belmont, entering the
room, with her bonnet on, " lam ready to go now."

" Thank you, grandma, for your story. I am
afraid I have lost some of my interest in buying the
new carpets. I wish we could make some, as my
great-grandma did."

THE DRIVE OVER PAGE HILL.

The drive over Page Hill to the Northumberland
road, returning by the Beattie pine woods, a dis-
tance of seven miles, is probably less frequented
than any in this vicinity. One reason is no doubt
owing to the road, which is in some places rather

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 107

rough, but chiefly because the scenery in that local-
itv is not -upposcil t<> l>e very attractive, at least that
i> what \ve thought until recently, when on one
pleasant afternoon, when the sunshine was tempered
by a gentle west wind, and a shower had laid the
dust and made grass and foliage wear a fresher green,
\ve took this drive over Page Hill.

We leave the village by North street, and, after
crossing the railroad track, take the road leading to
the right. A few rods brings us to the house of
Mr. John W. Stevens, just at the foot of the hill.
Page Hill derives its name from Mr. David Page,
one of the first settlers of the town, and who was
the first owner of this land. This hill is not very
steep, and we soon reach the top. Looking back
toward the west, we get a lovely view of the Con-
necticut, winding its devious way through the green
meadows. As we go on, we pass on the right, the
farm of Mr. George H. Stalbird. A field of ripen-
ing oats, golden in the afternoon sunshine, make a
pleasant contrast with the brighter green of the sur-
rounding fields. On the left, beyond the cultivated
fields, pastures and wood-lots, are the green hills of
Vermont. Now we come to the Moore place, and
pass on the right, an orchard, the trees loaded with
apples. Just here we notice a road on the left,

io8 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

which leads to the " Goodale farm." After passing
the homes of Messrs. Willard and John Moore, the
road is not very good, as it is but little used Leyond
this point. Another mile brings us to the old Dan-
iel Spaulding place. Mr. Spaulding, the original
owner of this farm, was the son of Mrs. Phebe
Spaulding, a woman renowned for her courage and
determination. The old house is only a ruin, and
the land is owned by Mr. Horace Holton and oth-
ers. Of the once large orchard, only a few trees re-
main, and there is but little to indicate that this was
once a thrifty farm. Just beyond the old house is a
great flat rock, extending nearly across the road;
just here we will leave the carriage, and fasten our
horse to the fence, beneath the shade of an old ap-
ple tree; then passing through some bars on the
right, we walk about thirty rods through the field
to a slight elevation. Ah! does not this gi'and view
repay us? In the foreground, we look down upon
thousands of acres of primeval forest, beyond that
we see the Gore, Lost Nation, New France, or
Parks' Mills, and rising above all, like a grand frame
for this beautiful picture, is the Pilot range, flecked
with shadows from the soft white clouds floating
above it. The cleared land and fields of yellow
grain, extending in some places half way up the

The Lancaster Sketch Book. 109

mountain sides, the farm houses and mills, all con-
trast pk-asantly with the unbroken forest. Twen-
ty-five years ago, where we now look down upon
thirty fauns, there had not a clearing been made,
and the only inhabitants were wolves and bears.
Turning to the right, we see Mts. Prospect and
Pleasant, Stebbins Hill, Hodgdon Hill, and get a
glimpse of the houses of the village in the valley
below. To the left, seemingly almost within our
reach, are the Percy Peaks and Mt. Lyon. From
this point the land in thirteen towns can be seen.
Reluctantly we turn away from this charming pros-
pect, and are soon driving on. Grass is growing in
the road, indicating that it is not much traveled, and
blackberry bushes, loaded with luscious fruit, bend
temptingly near us. Arching boughs of golden rod,
and bunches of purple asters, and elder bloom, light
up the way side, and glow in patches in the fields.
The land on either side of the road is rugged and
rocky, but occasionally we pass a field of oats or
corn, charming in contrast with the rugged scenery
by its side. Over hill and down dale we go, through
a wonderful web of light and shade, with a glimpse
now and again of far off mountain peaks, or undu-
lating ranges of hills, until driving down a hill rather
steeper than any previous, we come out on to the

no The Lancaster Sketch Book.

Northumberland road, just above the railroad cross-
ing. We turn to the left, and find ourselves on a
smooth, level road, and get a glimpse of the silvery
gleaming of the Connecticut through the trees on
the right. Very soon we enter the pine woods and
inhale the delightful piney odor from the trees.
Soon we pass on the left the cozy home of Captain
Beattie, and a little farther on at the right, is the
" Bellows Place," now owned by Captain Beattie.
The old house, that has been the scene of many
happy gatherings and merry makings, was fast fall-
ing into a dilapidated condition, but has been thor-
oughly repaired by the present owner.

We recall the delightful views afforded by this
drive, we regret that the road is not in a more fav-
orable condition, if it was, we are sure this would
become one of the favorite drives in this vicinity.
The remark made by a Scotchman in regard to his
own mountainous country, applies to Coos County
admirably: " It's a grand country. If it's nae great
comfort to the purse, it's aye a pleasure to the e'e."

The Lancaster Sketch Book. \ 1 1

THE OLD CEMETERY.

Ti> many of the residents of Lancaster, the old
graye-yard is a sacred spot. There are none of the
older people who haye not followed the remains of
dear ones through the gate and up the hill to their
last resting place.

Recently in strolling through this spot where

" Each in his narrow cell forever laid,
The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep,"

we stopped to read some of the inscriptions, that in
some cases furnish facts for biography and history,
which the cemeteries of our day will afford scant
material, as the monuments of a recent date, do not,
in some cases, impart the age of the dead and only
the initials of the name are used.

In publishing some of the inscriptions, which we
copied with much difficulty from the moss coyered
stones, that time's busy fingers will soon have en-
tirely effaced, we do so with reverence, thinking
the quaint and interesting inscriptions should not be
entirely lost.

Within a small enclosure, lying flat on the ground,
is a large stone bearing the two following inscrip-
tions:

H2 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

EMMONS STOCKWELL,

DIED NOV. 8, iSig, IN THE 78 YEAR OF
HIS LIFE.

One of the first settlers of this town, his descendants more than 120.
Honesty and industry attended him through life.

Mark the perfect man and behold the upright, for the end of that
man is peace.

RUTH,

WIFE OF EMMONS STOCKWELL,
DIED MARCH 21, 1828.

On other stones in various parts of the ground
•were found the following:

MRS. RACHEL,

WIFE OF CAPT. DAVID PAGE,
DIED APRIL 28,

MRS. ELIZABETH HUNNEX,

WIFE OF SAMUEL HUNNEX,

DIED l822, AGED 63.
The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

IN MEMORY OF

MRS. MARY BRACKETT,

RELICT OF MR. JOSEPH BRACKETT,
DIED JULY 15, 1814, AGED 70.

In active usefulness, Christian meakness and patience she was rarely
surpassed.

The Lancaster Sketch Hook. 113

REV. JOSEPH WILLARD,

I'IKI) JULY 22, 1827, AGED 66 YEARS.
For *8 years pastor of the Congregational Chxirch of this town.

JONAS BAKER,

DIED FEB. 14, 1828.
An honest man is the noblest work of God. %

ERECTED TO THE MEMORY OF

MRS. BETSY BAKER,

CONSORT OF JONAS BAKER AND ELDEST

DAUGHTER OF JONAS WILDER,

DIED IN iSoi.

STEPHEN ROSEBROOK,

SON OF JAMES AND PHEBK ROSEBROOK.
DIED FEB. 17, 1815, AGED II YEARS.

Death is a debt to nature due,
Which 1 have paid and so must you,
Depart my friends, dry up your tears,
Here I must lie till Christ appears.

SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF

MARY,

CONSORT OF STEPHEN WILSON,
WHO DIED FEB. 28, 1813, AGED 45.

Let sorrow change to sacred mirth.
Know God in love hath given,

The pure in heart who mourn on earth.
Perpetual smile in Heaven.

114 The Lancaster Sketch Book.

CHARLES STUART,

COUNSELLOR AT LAW,
DIED MAY 17, 1837, AGED 46.

JOHN B. ASPINWALL,

DIED MAY 25, 1833, AGED 26.

He's gone and left this world of pain,
This dark and dismal shore,

We only part to meet again,
And meet to part no more.

IN MEMORY OF

MR. NICHOLAS WHITE,

WHO DIED MAY jS, 1813, AGED 54.

Stop, traveler, as you pass by,
As you are now, so once was I,

As I am now so you must be,
Prepare for death and follow me.

ANDREW ADAMS,

DIED APRIL 14, 1833, AGED 97.

The graves of all the Saints He blessed,

And softened every bed,
Where should the dying member rest,

But with the dying Head.

This monument iserected by North Star Lodge as a tribute of af-
tVctionate respect to the memory of their deceased and worthy brother

ARA W. BURNAP,

WHO DIED UNIVERSALLY ESTEEMED AXD RESPECTED,
MARCH 21, 1813. AGED 45.

This book is DUE on the last
date stamped below.

REMINGTON RAND INC. 2

AR 18 1979

213 (533)

HY58 55*41 4701

A 001 337 489